


Twists of Fate

by ellethom



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Deceptions, F/M, Fighting badasses in love, Gen, I hate tagging, Like sometime later but still Westeros", Twists of Circumstances, arranged marriage-with a twist, more to be added as it goes - Freeform, not really canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-11-22 10:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 24,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11378727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellethom/pseuds/ellethom
Summary: What if Jaime was from a poor family and Brienne was the wealthy one?  How would that change their fates?  What story can be told of a father desperate to be back in the high life and another father desperate for his child to be happy?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRecorder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRecorder/gifts).



> This was not my idea, it came from heathengoddess on Tumblr. She graciously allowed me to root around in her sandbox and see what I could dig up.
> 
> Look what I found!

He swung his sword into the air, the dust of the training yard spiraled to meet him. Jaime Lannister coughed into the swirls of dust and kicked at the ancient training dummy, straw stuffed and well destroyed years before he had even been born. 

“I knew I ‘d find you here.” His brother, Tyrion, appeared through the dust cloud, coughing and rough voiced. “Father would like a word with you.”

“I am certain,” Jaime said, sheathing his one prized possession before rounding onto the shorter man, “That it will be far more than one word.”

Tyrion mock bowed but grinned nonetheless. “Of course, you know you and Cersei are the prized chattel. Father has a new plan, you and Cersei are, in large part, the pieces on the cyvasse board.”

There had been a time, somewhere long before the great war, that House Lannister had been on top. The house had once been the wealthiest in Westeros. That, of course, was the past. “He’s still trying to marry us off into oblivion.” Jaime said. “He thinks he can regain our once glorious reign with advantageous marriages.”

Tyrion nodded. “And, after what happened in Dorne, you and our sweet sister have been again aligned to wed into greater houses.”

“I will not.” Jaime said, kicking the straw dummy again and coughing from the new dust storm it raised. 

Tyrion, accustomed to his brother’s sulking rants, merely shrugged. “So, you can torpedo this one the same as you did in Dorne, though, I must warn you, father has lost all patience with your rebellions.”

Tyrion knew his brother; knew him more than he probably knew himself, but Jaime would cave this time; their house was bereft of all of the things that once made their house great. Now, they languished in obscurity. Tywin Lannister would see House Lannister rise again; and Tyrion knew he would raise it on the backs of his golden twins.   
\-------------

Jaime found himself in his father’s solar. The once beautiful estate of Casterly Rock was more cavernous than palatial now, though Tywin Lannister still insisted that they maintain the structure for it was all left if the family. “I sent for you four hours ago.” Tywin said.

Jaime spread his arms wide and laid back into his chair. “And here I am.” 

“Your indifference to our family is what destroyed us in Dorne.” Tywin accused. “I have no more patience for your insolence.” 

Jaime blinked once, twice. “Arianne Martell would have killed me in our marriage bed. Would you have lost your heir to a Dornish blade?”

“At least you would have done your duty to our house. Jaime, our family is in need of a better situation. We were the kings of the Westerlands. Ever since Lann the Clever--”

“Stole this accursed rock from the Castemeres.” Jaime finished. He was growing bored with his father’s schemes and machinations.

“Enough of this. You are to marry. It's time.”

Jaime threw his head back and laughed. “You have trotted me past every available maiden in Westeros. There are none who would marry into a house so poor and nefarious. Arianne Martell’s own mother had sealed that union out of friendship to Mother. Even that couldn't hold long enough. What makes you think any woman if any noble standing would unite their house to ours.”

“The Evenstar is in desperate need of marrying off his daughter.”

Jaime frowned, Tarth was the wealthiest House in the Stormlands, if not Westeros. The Warden of the East and and seat of the Stormlands was a prize he knew his father couldn't say no to. “I don't see how The Lannister name could entice a family like that into marriage.” 

Typing Lannister folded his hands, squared his shoulders and angled a look at his son that was nearly mirth. “Our name still carries some weight. The Tarths owe us an ancient debt.” He said. “And, you are the finest swordsman in the country.”   
\----------------

He found CerseI curled into a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace in her room. A cask of wine sat near her prone form and she held the pewter goblet in her elegant hand. “Father told you his plan, then.” She threw without turning to look at him.

Jaime nodded and slid next to her. “He did.” 

She peered into his eyes. Identical in color and shape, Jaime wanted to drown in them. “You're actually going to go through with this?”

“CerseI….”. He tried, His sister had a fragility wrapped deep inside of her caustic nature, she relied on him, they relied on each other. Father had spelled it out to him, it had made so much sense. He would marry into the Tarths and it would elevate their family enough to find a suitable husband for CerseI. She certainly wasn't getting any younger and it would be more difficult for her as more years passed. 

He would marry her himself, but Jaime realized that their family had been through enough shame and ill repute.

“CerseI, please.” He said. “Please understand what must be done.” 

Her eyes cracked like glass under the weight of his glare, for a moment, Jaime was uncertain if she would hit him, dump her wine in his face, or kiss him. “Jaime, you know How I feel.” CerseI took a deep, long pull of her goblet and emptied it. “I don't want to marry anyone.” CerseI refilled her glass and moved further into his arms. “It's supposed to be just us., Jaime. You said. “

Jaime moved his hands around her middle, his head resting on her golden shoulder. “It will always be just us, CerseI. I swear it.”


	2. Chapter 2

Selwyn Tarth was certain the bids hated him. Or, at the very least, spent their time with him as entertainment. He’d done everything in his power to ensure his family line would continue, and yet, all the gods had graced him with to survive was his daughter. The light of his life, but currently the bane of his very existence.

“I don't see why I should marry anyone.” The young woman asserted herself. She had stood to her full height, well past the height of her long passed mother but still slight of his own. She paced his solar in her torn gown and high, muddy, boots. 

“You do understand how things work, don't you?” he attempted levity in a time when his daughter looked as if she could tear him limb from limb.

On second thought, he had seen her in the training yards. She probably could. 

“I mean to say, that with your stellar education at the hands of our most valued Maester, you did receive the….rudiments of education regarding heirs and how they come to be?”

Brienne fired a look at the older man that could have wilted the very stone that encased the walls of Evenfall Hall. “Don't be obscene, Father. Of course I understand how that works.” He face rolled into a petulant scowl. “I also understand that I have many years before that becomes an urgent matter.”

He nodded slowly, having learned long ago that his daughter was adverse to quick movements when her ire was up. Selwyn sighed, speaking slowly and deliberately. “We are the seat of the East, the Wardens of it and the head of the Stormlands. You have responsibilities, Brienne. Responsibilities that I should have seen to long before this. “

“The Lannisters have made inroads into binding our houses.” He tried softly.  
Brienne snorted. “That house is as accursed as Harrenhal. Do you really want to be aligned with them? They have no honor, Father.”

He shook his head. “We do owe them an ancient debt, love. We have them to thanks for our seat in the East. From The War for the Dawn when house Lannister returned our Maiden of Light to us.”

“The Lion of Night and his house still had some respect then. And gold.” Brienne corrected. “Now, they are poor and shamed.”

“And thanks to our rich mines, we are not.” Selwyn said. “We must at least consider this offer, Brienne.”

Brienne lowered her gaze. She knew well the stories of what happened so long ago. 

Brienne had stopped moving and looked as if she would bolt from the room. Selwyn stood to take her hands in his. “It's not right, I agree. But, it is what must be.” He kissed her forehead.”

Brienne leaned into her father’s hold, Selwyn loved her more than life itself, but it killed him to have to force her into the reality of their world. “If this thing must be,” she said into his neck. “Then, shouldn't I have a say in who I am to spend the rest of my life with?”

She had him. Selwyn knew she would place qualifiers on this. It was what he expected of her. Why not? It was only the rest of her life. “All right,” he answered soothingly, rubbing Brienne’s back as he spoke. “But I must have a final say in this thing.”

“We must agree.” Brienne answered. “A concordance. Father, this is the rest of my life. Should I not have the final say?”

“Brienne, please understand that this is the way things must be. I trust you and I trust your judgments, but understand that the man you choose will have power that only a very few in Westeros hold.”

He nodded, of course she was right. “You are so much your mother at times, it makes it hard for me to say no to you.” He smiled and kissed her cheek. “We will hold a tourney, a chance for you to greet the eligible men of the kingdom.”

“Thank you, Father.” Brienne pulled a face that he had often seen when she was offered beets as a child. 

“And, we will invite this Lannister to join. We will send him the first and best invitation.” He gave her a soft squeeze. “I hear he is a fine swordsman. One of the best in the land.”

Brienne patted his head, “alright, father. You announce the tourney. I shall go and practice for it.” She parted from him and made for the door. 

_________________

Brienne flew into her rooms and bolted the door. Marriage! Of all things! She had known all her life that this day would come; that she would have to live up to her responsibility as sole heir. In the darkest of despair, she had wished her father would have found another wife, one who could have given him a real heir, a son that would have to deal with all of the burdens she now faced. 

“Coward,” she shouted at the reflection in her mirror. Of course it was her duty; she had to be the heir that her father needed. Regardless of what she wanted, she had a duty and those were things that wielding a sword and dreaming of being a knight had taught her. 

Brienne flopped onto her bed, her long legs dangling from the edge. She wanted to cry but could not find the tears.This day would always come, and she knew it would be sooner rather than later. Convincing her father of her choice was easier than she had dreamed. She would find someone who could look past her ugly face, manly form, and love of swords. She would not allow any man to run rickshaw over her; this was her house, her right.

Brienne, rather than finding tears, found purpose. She began to formulate a list of demands. 

\---------------------

At dinner that night, long after Brienne had put aside her armour and weapons, her father announced the tourney. It would be held three moons from now, a means to find the best man for the job, he’d joked. Brienne reddened at his words, but knew her father’s humor was a mask and balm against the seriousness of the situation.

“The tourney shall hopefully, end in a marriage.” He announced. “We may soon have a new generation of Tarths to rule our little side of the realm.”

Brienne smiled but she knew that no one could beat her in the tourney. She may win this thing yet.


	3. Chapter 3

“A tourney, really?” He shoved the parchment back onto his father’s desk. “What the hells does that mean?”

Tywin leaned back into his chair and templed his fingers. “It means, there is to be a tourney on Tarth in three moons. You shall attend, compete, and win the hand of the fair maiden of Tarth.”

Jaime scoffed, this was suddenly harder than just showing up and throwing a cloak over some timid girl. “A tourney? I’m to go and what? Compete for this girl? What happened to ancient debts and all of that?”

Tywin wasn't budging, his face remained the same impassable stone mask as it had always been. “We are the first to receive this invitation. The Evenstar is aware of his debt; he has offered for you to come to Evenfall and practice there for the tourney.”

Jaime did not like the sound of this, at all. He had hoped to spend as much time as he could with Cersei before duty lead him away from her for gods only knew how long. He twisted his fingers into the sword belt at his hip and sighed. “Perhaps this is for the best, Father. I don't see how, given all the other knights and Lords in Westeros, she would even consider me.”

Tywin shot to his feet. “You are the best swordsman in the country! You have youth, gods granted good looks and you are a Lannister!” Tywin’s voice had not prove cadence, yet the insistence of his words still rang around the solar. “You will leave for Tarth at first light and you will win the tourney and marry this girl.”

Jaime let his father’s words sink into his skin. It seemed so easy; according to his father he could just walk in and win this girl. But, there was never anything easy for Lannisters. Not anymore, not since The War for the Dawn. “Alright, Father. I will leave in the morning.”

Tywin nodded, sat back at his desk and went back to the ledger book. His next words seemed nearly a vague afterthought. “Don't forget who you are, Jaime. And, where you come from.”  
_____________________________

Tyrion had grinned from his seat across the dias. “Nothing for you to smile about, Tyr. Father has commanded that you accompany me to Tarth.”

“It's why I am smiling, dear brother.” Tyrion took another sip of his wine. “I am to have great adventures alongside my big brother.”

“As my squire.” Jaime said with a smile of his own. He grinned wider at his brother’s faltered smile. 

“I know nothing of being as such. And, I might take offense at such a lowly moniker.”

Take offense all you wish, little brother. You will be on that boat with me first thing in the morning. I suggest you pack light.”

Tyrion spread his short arms wide. “The only way a young man of my stature could pack.”

__________________________

“You’ll come for the tourney.” Jaime said to her after sliding into her bed. “You’ll be my Queen of Love and Beauty.”

“It's not fair.” Cersei pouted in the moonlight of her large window. “I have to stay here while you go and herd a cow.”

Jaime smiled at that. If his looks had been known throughout the kingdom, then knowledge of the Evenstar’s unfortunate daughter were legendary. He wasn't concerned though, duty was duty, and he already had the love of the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros. He could grin a bear his fate knowing that Cersei would always love him. He leaned into her touch a kiss leading to more kisses that trailed like fire across her back. “I love you.” he said. “I will always love you. No one else, Cersei.”

“Don’t forget me, Jaime. I will be there for the tourney, we can still have our fun.”

“I’d rather have our fun tonight, something to keep me warm until you are there at my side again.”

____________________

Tyrion was bleary eyed as he stood on the deck of the Blushing Harlot; a ship hired out with it's crew. Tywin had sold some relics of the Lannister family to ensure the arrival of his son to Tarth. The ship was one of the fastest and promised to take Jaime to Tarth and arrive within weeks, not months. “Time is of the essence, boy.” His father had said to him. Jaime merely shrugged. No one had come off to see the brothers off, they left at early light and Jaime could not help but feel he was being sold off into slavery.

“This is going to be a long ride,” Tyrion mused from beside him. “There had better be some good spirits on this wretched ship. “

Jaime didn't want to think about how long the journey would be, nor did he want to consider what awaited him on the other end of it. He was sailing off into the unknown, a mission that he didn’t want to be on nor accomplish.

But, family, duty and a promise of helping his house excavate itself from a century of poverty and desperation. He held onto the rail of the bow as the ship sailed from Casterly. Jaime never looked back.


	4. Chapter 4

She wandered through the town not wanting to be noticed. Brienne knew she was easily identified and most of the town’s inhabitants played along with her ruse. She had her old brown cloak and broken in boots. The only town on Tarth was far off enough from the castle to warrant a full day’s walk, but near enough that they all could point her tall form out at fifty paces.

The leatherworker often saved his best pieces for her, never calling her anything more than Bryn, a shortened affectation of her name that was peculiar to the accent of the townsfolk. He showed her the saddle with special accoutrements that he had been working on for her. She thanked him and he promised it would be ready in time for the tourney.

The walk along the docks was always her favorite part of her trips into town. She knew that the Lannisters were due to arrive any day; but she had convinced her father to allow her and only a few guards to greet them. The guards followed her at a far pace, they were fully aware of her ability to handle herself yet unwilling to anger the Evenstar by leaving her to wander the town alone.

“The Blushing Harlot is docked, M’lady.” Starden, the guard longest in her family’s service, said. He nodded toward the large ship still unloading.

“Then, perhaps we should go and make acquaintance with the new arrivals.”

_____________________

They were ratty looking. No doubt from their two and a half week journey to Tarth. The pair were unmistakeable. Jaime Lannister stood next to a shorter man, but both were still in no doubt brothers. He was beautiful. Brienne had rarely left her island, but even with her limited experience of Westeros, she could easily see how he was considered the most handsome man on the continent, and perhaps beyond. 

“Ah,” his posh voice enunciated. “Here is our welcome fleet now.” He studied the three of them, Brienne and her two guards, with barely concealed disinterest.

She steps forward, suddenly aware of her state of dress and manly demeanor. “Welcome to Tarth, Ser Jaime. “ She manages.

His eyes bulge for a moment, with a blink he catches himself and plasters a dazzling smile across his face. “You’re a woman.’ he snides. “I have to say that Tarth is very forward in its ideals. I must commend the Evenstar for accepting women into his service.”

Starden stepped forward angrily, but Brienne held up a hand. “Yes, the Evenstar will be thrilled to hear of your admirations.” She offered him a cutting smile of her own before signaling for them to follow. 

Tyrion came forward and spoke. “Ah yes, they are quite evolved here.” He grinned, something in the younger man’s face gave her pause, but she considered the pair before directing them to horses prepared for their trek to Evenfall.

Jaime angled his horse toward Brienne. “So tell me, what are they like?” he asked her. “The Tarths, are they good people?”

“The finest.” Brienne could hear Tyrion riding along the two guards sharing some bawdy jape that would certainly endear at least one Lannister to her house. 

Jaime nodded, “And the daughter? Is she quite as...people have described?” He seemed nervous and Brienne could not blame him. He was in a strange land and obviously knew no one here. But his query irked her more than it should have.

“What does it matter to you? There will be a hundred other knights and lords here vying for m-her hand. What makes you think you’ll have to be considered with being sidled with an ugly wife?”

She watched the beautiful man shrug. “I’m strong enough.” he insisted as they made their way through the forest just outside of the city wall. “I’m a Lannister.”

Brienne snorted and had the sudden urge to dash her horse ahead and leave this infuriatingly smug man behind. For a poor, disgraced house, he had enough arrogance for ten men. “We’ll see in two mons.” she said instead.

“Will you be taking part in the tourney…?”

She looked at him then, “I may, but not for the same reasons as everyone else, I am certain.” 

“Of course. A fight for honor then? For the very love of the game?”

“Honor.” The words seemed to fill in some empty hole that she had not realized existed until it rolled smoothly from Ser Jaime’s perfect mouth. “Yes, a fight for honor, I suppose. And rights. Rights to making one’s own decisions. If I choose to fight instead of whelp, then that should be my choice, should it not?”

Jaime laughed then, a laugh that rang across the open meadow they across. THe castle was in the far distance, shrouded in clouds and mist of the late morning grey sky. “You mock me?” she spat angrier than she meant.

“You fight for rights, and I must fight for loss of mine own. “ He looked toward the castle as it broke across the great expanse. “I don't mock you Ser--My Lady. I mock the irony of it all.”

Brienne fell silent at his words. She hadn't considered that someone, some male someone, could be in the same situation as her own. She felt a pang of pity for this man, a pity she saw reflected in her own mirror just that morning. 

“You can always choose not to fight.” she tried. “You still have the choice.’

“And disappoint the Great Tywin Lannister? We may be a poor and low house, but even I as his son knows better than to cross him.”

She watched the sadness in his eyes and tried to ignore the pain in his voice. “Duty is a real bitch.”

Hr turned a grin at her then, the pain gone from his face. “Race you to the castle?”


	5. Chapter 5

Jaime wondered how this once minor house with all of it's history, somehow managed to still be as humble and unassuming as it was. The castle was beautiful to look upon, without question, but there was an understated sense of humility that belied the true wealth of Tarth. 

The three guards who'd escorted them to the castle seemed to disperse after they had entered the main gates. Jaime helped Tyron dismount from his horse. “Hard to stay on without my saddle.” Tyrian said when his feet finally touched solid ground. 

“We’ll get you settled when we unpack.” Jaime said as he surveyed the yard. It was smaller than he thought it would be. Jaime wondered what the wealthiest house in Westeros did with all of it's wealth.

A young girl, tall and willowy with reddish gold hair greeted them with a courtesy. For a moment, Jaime wondered if this was the daughter of Selwyn Tarth. But, she bowed and motioned for them to follow her to their rooms.

“Shouldn’t we not meet the Evenstar, first?”. Tyron asked as they followed the servant. 

The girl turned “ Lord Selwyn is aware of your arrival but he is in a very important meeting now. He will meet you at dinner. He says you are to be set up as honored guests and supplied with all you need.” 

“Does that include a good Dornish red and some of your time beautiful lady?” Tyrian offered his best Lannister grin.

THe young woman giggled but gave no answer either way. Jaime frowned at his brother and as soon as the girl left them in their palatial rooms, he admonished the younger man. “You should be very careful with your wine and women, Tyrion. Best not to give away too many of the family secrets.”

Tyrion waved him off, but a smile set upon the small man’s face. “So that guard was rather ....large.”

Jaime set upon the bed and leaned back. “Amazing that one. Did you happen to see her eyes?”

“I’m sure you can tell me all about them, dear brother. Racing to the castle.” Tyrion shook his head. “You know, she did have rather...peculiar features.” 

Jaime shrugged. “Given what we know of the Fair Maiden of this castle, I am certain it's a family trait. She is probably some poor relative.”

“Or,” Tyrion tried, but stopped himself. “You know, you are probably right, Jaime. We should get ourselves settled, cleaned, and dressed for this auspicious meal.”

“I’d much rather find the training yard and get acquainted with the armory here.” 

“And I would much rather find a warm body and a good bottle of good wine. But, as you said, we should be on our best here. Remember, father will be here for the tourney and he will learn of all we have done in his absence. “

“Of course,” Jaime scuffed. “Father.”

__________________

The Evenstar was a large man, it was no surprise that his daughter was famed to be as tall as a Clegane. He held the center of the dais as the two brothers approached to take their appointed seats. 

“Ah, the Lannisters. Our once relatives and benefactors.” Selwyn Tarth rose to greet them and pointed to seats on either side of himself. “So good your journey was safe and without incident.”

Tyrion nodded and greedily grabbed for the cask placed nearest to him. Some compassionate soul had ensured a large cushion for his brother to sit upon, large enough to seat him comfortably at the table and be able to reach without embarrassment. Jaime smiled knowingly at the large man next to him who seemed to understand his gratitude. The Evenstar smiled and swatted the knight’s back. “Ser Jaime, I have heard of your exploits all the way here at the end of the world.”

“This is hardly the end of the world, Lord Selwyn.” Jaime sniffed. “Most in Westeros would say this is now where the sun rises.”

“Evenfall, Ser Jaime.” Selwyn laughed and gave the young man another solid pat. “It's the last light at the end of the world.”

“House words,” Tyrion interjected. “Those are different from the original, are they not?”

Lord Selwyn’s face passed into a serious nod. “Aye Tyrion.” He said. “The Light at the end of the world refers to our Maiden made of light who stood her ground at the War for the Dawn and lived.”

“Speaking of the Maid of Tarth. I had assumed I would meet your daughter at dinner?” Jaime tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, but he had been scanning the room in search of a glimpse of the woman he had come across the continent to win. 

Lord Selwyn’s head tilted up as if in prayer. “My daughter is a very busy young woman. She has many...projects to attend.”

“Ah, “ Tyrion smiled. “Women’s things.” 

Jaime nodded sagely. “She will not be at dinner tonight?”

Lord Selwyn’s face scrunched into an unreadable grimace. “She is quite shy, you understand? She requested to visit friends on the mainland, wants to stay out of the way while everyone prepares for the tourney.”

Jaime nodded, considering a large, blushing maid afraid of her own shadow. He tried to turn over the idea in his mind of being wed to someone so placid. “I look forward to meeting her.”

Lord Selwyn’s smile was kind and knowing. “I am certain she will leave quite the impression, Ser Jaime.”

“I was most surprised to find you employed female guards, Lord Selwyn.” Jaime said.

Tyrion nodded, but it was Lord Selwyn who spoke. “Ah, yes. I was told you seemed to admire that. It's a new world, Lord Jaime. After the War, we had less soldiers as I am sure you know. Unlike most of the country, we chose to widen our ideals of what makes a good soldier.”

“I must tell you that my brother was most taken...with the idea of course.” Tyrion and Lord Selwyn shared a look that Jaime could not decipher. “The one that greeted us, she seemed very competent.”

“More than,” Lord Selwyn nodded. “She has been training here since she was three years old. No one could remove the sword from her hand.” There was a light in the older man’s eye that Jaime wondered if she wasn't some favored relative or a natural daughter. 

“I should like to meet her on the field, then.” Jaime smiled, recalling blue eyes that seemed to challenge his disbelief. 

Lod Selwyn turned to meet his gaze. “I can arrange for her to be your personal sparring partner,” he said. “I think that you will find that she is more than a match for your skills.”

Tyrion glowered at his brother, but Jaime was never one to back down from a challenge. “I should like to accept the challenge, My Lord. As long as you can ensure no harm will befall me when I prove to be to much for her to bear.”

“We shall see, Ser Jaime. I think you will find that the women of Tarth are far stronger than you would like to believe.” He called for the start of the meal. “Tomorrow then? I will send her to the yard after breaking fast. Bryn usually likes to have meat with her meals.”

Tyrion laughed at that, and Jaime could not deny the humor nor pride in the man’s jape.“Tomorrow morning, then. Make sure to have a Maester nearby.”

Selwyn laughed. “I assure you a Maester will be available to attend to you when she has finished.”


	6. Chapter 6

“This was your idea, Brienne. I don't see how I am in the wrong.” Lord Selwyn needed more wine, he had been drank under a table by a man a fraction his size the night before. Now, as the sun began to squeeze itself from under the far horizon visible from his solar, Selwyn found himself locked in combat with his only living child. Agian.

“This was not what I wanted, Father. I wanted to be left alone, to not have to play hostess to Lannisters while my fate was being chosen for me from all corners of Westeros”

“Brienne, please understand. I did not offer your services as a means to humiliate you. He doesn't even know who you are. I did as you asked, all of the servants, the stable hands, even the harbormaster will not give away your secret!.”

“How could you!” she railed uncharacteristically. “I wanted to be left alone, and now you force me into daily interactions with him.”

Selwyn shook his head, but on this one, he stood his ground. “We have been far more blessed than many houses in the realm We made it through the War and came out on the other side as a ruling house. “

Brienne lowered her gaze, but not her defenses. She knew where this talk was leading; any time her father mentioned their place in the realm, responsibility soon followed. 

“I have always taught you about what our responsibilities were to those less fortunate than us. The Lannisters were once a powerful house.”

“But shameful in their actions. Father, I cannot understand why you wish to assist them in a possible plot to take over our house!”

Selwyn laughed, “do you really believe that I would allow anyone to unseat you?” He took her hand. “You are the heir, Brienne. You will take my place as the Evenstar when the time comes. But, you also must marry; if for nothing else then to keep that from happening. Being bound to another house will ensure our place in the world.”

“I merely wished to be left to my own in the free time I had left before having to live up to responsibilities. You are not trusting in my decisions.”

“I followed your wishes, Brienne. If I thought this was a bad choice, would I have convinced the entire castle to go along with your deception? You came to me the very day the Lannisters arrived and begged to be allowed to stay undiscovered. I have done that for you. Do this for me.”

“Father,” Brienne tried again, but knowing she had lost the battle. 

Selwyn shook his head again. “Brie, I am not forcing you into this; but know that our house has always had an eye toward the greater good.” He kissed her forehead. “This doesn't mean you have to marry the boy. Our families have a shared history, at the very least you could just get to know someone for the house that helped us become who we are now. “

_______________

He was already in the armory when she arrived that morning. Jaime was already moving through his stances in the pale light of morning. She stopped to watch him for a while; he moved like a shadowcat; fast and sure of his strike. His beauty was more obvious now that he had cleaned up. Brienne found the wind taken out of her lungs when he turned his emerald upon her.

“THought you were craven, Bryn.” He said with a smile. “Lord Selwyn promised me an adequate sparring partner. I was afraid his words of surety were just bluster.”

“Lord Selwyn doesn't bluster.” She said, reminding herself to stay on guard around this beautiful man, so like a poisoned flower. “If you are quite finished with your bluster, however, we can begin.” She picked up a practice sword of her own and took her stance.

Jaime grinned, but fell into his own stance and their dance began.

He was good, she could not deny it. Jaime carried his sword as if it were another part of his arm. She had to work twice as hard against him as she would others she had sparred with. Even trying to let him wear himself out did little to hinder his speed and agility.

“You are strong,” Jaime panted with a wild gaze. “I’ll give you that, but you are also still green in your carry through.” He stopped and stepped toward her, the sword in his hand angled down in supplication. “Guard your left, you leave it open far too often.”

Brienne huffed but lowered her sword. They had been fighting for nearly three hours, the sun had began to beat down upon them. “This is not a lesson, Ser Jaime.” she said. He had made her yield more than once, and she him. His moves were more trickery and subterfuge than fight, but Brienne could not ignore the skill behind the man’s arrogance.

“You’re quite the Swords wench,” he laughed. “But hard headed nonetheless. You say you want your chance in the melee. Let me help.’

“I don't need the help of a man trying to marry into a greater house to better his standing.” She spat.

He nodded. “Is that what you think?” Jaime asked. “That I am here to prostitute myself in the hopes of marrying the Evenstar’s daughter to take over, what? The realm.”

“Aren’t you?” She huffed. “A man from a once great house, aren't you desperate to recover some of that glory your house once held? Why should the Tarths even trust someone from such a nefarious backwater family?” she sneered. “Isn't that what your house was once known for?”

He came at her then, smooth like the silk of the dresses she hated. He slashed, she parried. He thrust, she dipped and swung at his ankles. They battled as if life itself were at stake. Jaime pressed the advantage, and though she could offer up her greatest defense, he came at her offensively and would not let up. 

Calm, still determination etched into his face. Jaime pressed her with his speed until she was against the wall of the armory, his sword pressed to her throat. “You have high ideals for merely a guard.. Maybe you have some high ambitions yourself? The Evenstar is a widower.” He said. “I’m certain, in your great standing here at Evenfall, you are privy to much. But, never, ever, assume to know my mind, Wench.” He threw his practice sword to the ground and turned toward the castle.

________________

He was there the next morning, same form moving through the air like a swan to water. She hated his easy manner in fighting. Goodwin had worked with her for years to improve her lightness of movement and agility. Ser Jaime seemed to come by those qualities as easy as breathing air. He smiled at her when he turned, without a word Brienne chose her sword and they fell into a wordless session. 

She began to mimic his moves, carefully steps and a guard of her left side. He knew her weaknesses, it would be better to adapt to them and gain a better footing.

Three hours into their session that morning and the score was even. It was like he could anticipate her moves. Brienne tried to switch up her strokes, but Ser Jaime seemed to be one step ahead of her. 

They sat side by side next to a barrel of water, taking turns at the ladle. “You are good.” Jaime said, breaking the silence.

She nodded, not willing to concede even a compliment.

“You can be better.” he tried. “I mean, you obviously have had a sword in your hand since the age of three.” Jaime passed the water ladle to her. “I just think, if you are willing, we can help each other.”

Brienne gulped down the water and passed the ladle back. “How?” she asked. Brienne was uncertain of where this was leading, but her guard was still up.

“You have lived here all your life, and I know nothing of this island.” Jaime sighed and tossed the ladle back into the barrel of water. “I help you improve your skills at swordplay and you can teach me about Tarth.” He smiled at her, another breath caught in her lungs. “If I am to live here for the rest of my days. Perhaps I could learn something of the place. Maybe even impress the elusive Maiden of this castle.”

Brienne bristled at his plea. “Another plan to woo the maiden, Ser Jaime?” she asked, angrily.

He placed a hand on her shoulder, a spark ran through her like a lit flame. “No,” he said with a shake of his golden head. “A chance to learn something. I was never a good student. Spent far too much time with the sword. You may understand, when you grow up poor, you need to find some thing that you can do better than most. For my brother it's books and strategies. For me? I’m only as good as my sword.”

Her head shook before she realized she was disagreeing with him. “No one is only their sword, Ser Jaime. You were knighted on the field of battle, surely there is more to you than even you realize.”

“I was knighted after failing to kill the Smiling Knight, Toyne. Ser Arthur Dayne had to come and clean up my mess.” 

“But you were knighted.” Brienne said. 

“Aye, after the mess was cleared. Don't get me wrong, Wench. I was glad for my knighting. I earned it. I just wish I could have had done more.” He sighed. “The things I didn't learn then, I can teach you. Your winning the tourney would keep me free, and prove yourself to the rest of Westeros.”

Brienne tilted her head and considered his words. “Just about Tarth? Or the Lady of Tarth as well?”

Jaime shrugged again. Both, neither, only one. Just, something to keep me from losing my mind from boredom, here.” He smiled at her and the sun was put to shame. “Deal?”


	7. Chapter 7

“Well, well, well.” Tyrion beamed up at him over his tomes. The dwarf had found the library of the castle as well as an easy parlay with the servants who were more than happy to supply him with the good wines. “I haven't seen you all day. Were you out in the training yard the whole time?”

Jaime slumped into the high backed chair across from his brother. “No, we went to the town, today. Well, after our session.” A smile played across his features, unbidden. He could not stop smiling at the time they spent together. They had been on Tarth for nearly a full moon and most of his time had been spent sparring and touring with Bryn. 

Her blue eyes had begun to invade his dreams, and Jaime wasn't sure what that meant for his future.

Tyrion removed a folded slip of parchment from the bottom book on the pile and passed it across the table. “From home,” he said with a knowing look.

Jaime snatched up the paper and eyed Tyrion suspiciously. “DId you read it?” he asked, knowing it came from Cersei. Ravens from their father were shared nearly immediately and without fanfare but Tywin Lannister’s words were mostly similar in the four letters he had sent. Honor your house, do your duty. Don't fuck it up. 

Tyrion held up his hands in surrender and shook his head. “I would not dream of reading a missive from my sweet sister without your approval.” His words carried a note of sarcasm, but Tyrion was the only person that knew of the true nature of the twins relationship. 

He read her letter angled it near the candle for better clarity. She was careful, as he had expected of her letter. Nothing that the Maester of the Rookery on Tarth would ever read more into. She spoke of her days alone (without him, the words didn't say) Her hopes of the future (with him, he knew), and her dreams of coming to the tourney(to see him, he imagined the words offered). He sighed and folded the paper and slipped into into the pocket of his jerkin.

“She’s well,” Jaime said. “Bids you fair health.” They both knew he was lying with those final words, but Jaime did not feel obligated to show Tyrion the letter, and Tyrion did not ask to read it. 

Instead, the younger brother nodded and turned the page of his book. “Did you know,” he began. “That Tarth was once a lesser house with a warrior maiden?”

“Don't be ridiculous, Tyrion. Everyone knows that.” Jaime huffed.

Tyrion nodded. “Just about everyone, though some are thicker than others.” 

“Bryn has been teaching me a lot about Tarth history, legends, tales and such.” He fished a look at his brother’s mismatched gaze. “Did you know, that most of the wealth of Tarth is fed back into the economy. Returned to the smallfolk? The Tarths live simply, near rigidly, by the idea of sharing their wealth.”

“Smart,” Tyrion agreed. “It's far better to increase a lauder by ensuring everyone has a hand in it.”

“The Tarths aren't like us, Jaime.” tyrion peered at his brother. “They live much like the Starks; a code of honor and duty to those beneath them. Our family, I’m afraid, have a much less congenial feeling toward those under us. Which, in the last century or so, have not been many.”

Jaime nodded, recalling his father’s ham fisted rule of those houses still under their liege. Not those that once were; the Braxx and Westerlings had surpassed them in wealth and status. Yet, there were many of the minor houses in the Westerlands who still recalled when the Lannisters were kings. “They do have a better grasp of spreading the wealth.” 

Tyrion tilted his large head at his brother. “You’ve been spending quite a bit of time with the Warrior Woman, haven’t you?”

Jaime shrugged. “She is the only interesting thing here. I miss home, but having someone who understands the pleasure of sword fighting really makes a difference.” Jaime smiled despite himself. “She even practices with the Mace.”

“Really?” Tyrion asked, leaning back from the table. “Jaime, I must ask, what is the nature of this...friendship? You do recall why you are here?”

“I know my duty, Lord Tywin.” Jaime spat. “You need not spill father’s words to me, brother. I have them memorized.”

Tyrion nodded. “Have you and she…” Tyrion made a wave of his hand as if to explain the nature of his question.

Jaime reddened, “no, of course not! Our friendship isn't based on wine and lust. That’s more your speed.”

Tyrion closed his book and sighed. “I think you should be very careful here, Jaime. Everyone is aware of how much time you spend with Bryn.”

“Lord Selwyn himself agreed to the arrangement.” He wasn't sure what his brother was driving at, but Jaime didn't like where the conversation was leading. The fact that he had taken to dreaming of the girl would not be a good sign against what his brother was insinuating.

“I just mean, Jaime, that she isn't like Cersei.”

“Careful, little brother.” Jaime’s voice came as a growl, a warning against mentioning anything that could be overheard, or offensive.

Tyrion lowered his voice to a whisper. “Cersei is a woman who needs to be worshipped. She is fragile, not like Bryn’s fragility.’

“Fragile?” Jaime guffawed. “The woman could eviscerate you at twenty paces, leaving nothing but your tongue and your cock. “

“No, but she is tenderhearted. That cat in the yard that lost her litter last week. Bryn cried in the stables.”

“I find that hard to believe.” But he didn’t, not really. He could see the tender parts of the Wench when they walked the old roads around the castle, or when they would go to town and some local would place a babe in her arms. 

“Jaime, you must tread lightly with Bryn If things go sour with her, it could put us in a bad spot.” Tyrion shook his head. “Do you care for her?”

Jaime opened his mouth to offer his brother one of the typical cutting remarks that he would dangle when pressed into a corner. This time, he couldn't find it in himself to dispute. “I will ensure that I am as careful as you advise.” He said instead, suddenly aware of every shared smile, story, look, gaze, touch….that he had shared with Bryn. 

Tyrion sighed. “Bryn isn't Cersei. She is not going to settle for a roll around and then pretend that nothing happens in public. “

“Tyr.” Jaime sighed.

Tyrion held up a small hand. “Tread lightly, brother.” Tyrion sad. “Every action has a consequence, just make sure you are ready to handle the ones you create.”

____________________

He found her in their usual place at dinner. Jaime had taken to sitting with the house guards where Bryn took her meals. Bryn wasn't much for drinking, but sitting with the baudier guards and swapping stories until the servants shooed them out to clean had become his second part of the day.

The soldiers seemed to have a real regard for her; a respect that had come from her having knocked many of them into the dirt and having taken her lumps with those who had bested her. Jaime listened to their stories with rapt attention and pride. He even shared his own tales when asked. Somehow, he had become part of their group in a way that was both tentative and hearty at the same time. 

She was nursing a tankard of ale, a show for those around who didn't seem to know how much she preferred cool water. Her broad, ugly face broke into a smile when she saw him and waved him over. The smile had even reached her eyes and Jaime was floored to find he wanted to see that smile on her more often. 

“Sorry I am late, Wench. Ravens from home.”

“All is well?” she asked with genuine concern. They had reached a truce, an easy peace between them that had blossomed into far more than sparring partners. 

Jaime nodded. “Of course, nothing of note other than my Grey has foaled.”

She smiled again. “Congratulations, that is good news.”

Jaime turned to answer her when a squire ran breathlessly into the great hall. “M’lord!” he wheezed to Lord Selwyn, still trying to catch his breath from his run. 

Lord Selwyn had been watching the pair on the left side of the dias. Tyrion on his right had been telling him a story about a whore and a honeycomb. “Speak up, Boy!” the older man bellowed into the suddenly quiet hall. 

“Raiders, Ser. The Ironborn are in the harbor.”


	8. Chapter 8

“There’s no need for you to stay, Ser Jaime. Maester Harwell has sewn me up many times before.”

She watched his jaw clench, but he did not move from her side. Just as he had stayed next to her as they chased off the raiders from the coast of Tarth.

“I’ve nothing better to do.” He said. “Besides, I would like to see that your wound is stitched properly.” He grinned at her. “You may only be a lowly soldier here, they may not give you proper care as they would a noble. I’m here to ensure that.”

The Maester harrumphed at his implication, but Brienne smiled. Something she did not recall doing so well and often before meeting the insufferable man. “You fought well.” she said.

“Hold still, Bryn,” Maester Harwell admonished. The slash to her arm carried from her shoulder to her elbow. It was far deeper than she had realized during the fight. Even the arrow wound was far less serious. 

“You as well, Ser Jaime.” She answered. He had, in fact his valyrian steel sword had moved like a phantom; striking fast and true. Jaime dipped his head at her compliment, but his eyes danced with fire. “You saved me from that idiot with the Braavosi sword. That would have left a nasty scar.”

“Our sparring together has improved us both; I am certain we saved each other many times over today.” It was the truth; some Dothraki wielding a arakh had slashed for Jaime’s sword hand. Brienne had slit the attacked from stem to stern.

As the Maester finished the last stitch, Starden had appeared at her other side. “M-Bryn, The Evenstar wished a conference with you.”

Jaime stood. “For what? She’s still recovering from saving this house from Ironborn raiders. Can't she have a moment’s peace?”

“It's all right, Ser Jaime.” She patted his arm with her good hand that the Maester bandaged her other. “I’m sure the Evenstar merely wants my account of what happened.”

“I’ll go with you. We saw the same things.”

Brienne shook her head. “You are still healing yourself, Ser Jaime. That wound on your leg needs to be healed properly. It's only a moon before the tourney, I’ll not let you blame me for your losses.”

“As if I’ll lose,” he grinned, but a sadness sat behind his words that Brienne could not put a name to. “I’ll be in fine fighting form to kick your ass, Bryn. Have no fear.”

It was her turn to smile and Brienne left to follow Starden to, what she was certain, would be a loud conversation with her father.  
_______________________________

“You could have been hurt, or worse.” her father said, not angrily nor accusatory. Lord Selwyn simply reiterated the words that had been hanging in the air since their forces had managed to beat back the raiders. 

Jaime had fought at her side; had stayed as close during the fighting as he could. His sword never faltered, never wavered. The one possession of his old house’s legacy wielded with intense precision. Brienne stood up straighter, stiffened to her full height in front of her father. “I’m here, Father.” she said. "And this isn;t the fist time I have stood with our soldiers. I was in no greater danger than any other time." She tilted her head wondering where this was going. "I was mostly unharmed." Brienne thrust her bandaged arm forward as proof.

Selwyn nodded. “Of course, and I am to understand that we have a Lannister to thank for that.”

“We saved each other.” she nodded.

“Of course, there were many reports from the soldiers as such. In fact, he would not leave your side.”

“Nor I, his.” she nodded.

Selwyn paused, staring intently into the face of his only child. Brienne felt as she did when, at six, she had poked her old septa for calling her an ugly beast. Selwyn had punished her then, but that septa had been on the next ship for the mainland that evening. “What are you to him, Brienne?”

“I don't understand your question, father.”

Selwyn shook his head. “I agreed to this ruse of yours, knowing you to have a solid mind and an indomitable spirit. But, you have spent all of your time with this man and he you. I have concerns regarding the nature of your friendship. Are you and he….close?”

Brienne took a surprised step back. “Are you accusing me of something, father? Are you insinuating that I have been less than honorable?”

Selwyn held up his hands in supplication; “I am merely asking if the two of you have gotten closer.”

The blush found it's way across her face, and Brienne was certain in was redder than the wound under her bandage. “Yes,” she said simply.

Selwyn nodded. “DO you think maybe, you should tell him who you really are before he finds out on his own? “

She’d considered it, in the past few weeks they had spent together it was all she could think on. That, and his pretty face inching closer to hers to--”I don't know how that would go.” she admitted.

Selwyn said. “Your mother was a great woman. You have her eyes.”

“I know that, father.” The portrait of her mother hung in the private family apartments. In the hall with the others of her and her long dead siblings. 

Selwyn shook his head. “You know, she wasn't a great beauty. She was just a woman, I loved her more than life itself. Perhaps that is why I never married again. I realize that, had I been able to do so, I would have made your life easier if I had another son.”

She shook her head. “Father, no.” Brienne had considered it herself, but only in times of anger and despondency of being the sole heir. Truthfully, she would not know how to share her father with anyone. He had taken lovers, but none that lasted more than a few moons. None that mattered. 

“But, I loved your mother. And, I like to think there were no secrets between us. In fact, I am certain of it.” He gaze Brienne a scathing look. “You should tell him, Brienne. Perhaps it's for the best. We can have the tourney and announce--”

“No!” she said quickly. “You swore I could participate in this tourney. No other tourney in the realm would allow for me to fight. I have earned this.”

Selwyn sighed, “yes, you have. But, perhaps we could change the stakes?”

Brienne shook her head. “I’ll think on it, Father.” she nodded. “But, please. Promise me you will not tell him yourself.”

“I would not dream of it, Brienne. This is your story to tell, but might I suggest you do it sooner rather than later?” He rose and slid his arms around her. “I would hate to think that my daughter found happiness only to ruin it with her own stupidity.” He squeezed her into a hug to lessen the seriousness of his words. “

________________

She was wiping tears from her eyes as she exited her father’s solar. The tourney was still weeks away and she now had to recover from an injury to be in fine form. The private residences were empty save for a single form standing nearest to the hall. She realized with a smile it was Ser Jaime, come to ensure that Bryn wasn't in too much trouble.

He bowed from his position. Brienne could see his face was a mask of something feral. She stopped in her tracks at his visage. 

“Lady Brienne,” Jaime said. “I hope your audience with your father went well.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kudos goes to Lauralina who figured shit out. This is posting up until the season premiere. It'll be finished day of. 
> 
> I hope ;)

“Get packed, we’re leaving.” Jaime began to throw items from the wardrobe in the opulent rooms.

“Leaving?” Tyrion asked, not moving from his spot on his bed. He had just woken up from the celebration the night before. “Is something wrong back home?”

“Something is wrong, here.” Jaime spat, still throwing his things into a pile. 

Tyrion finally roused, wobbled to a sitting position and winced at the light pouring through the heavy drapes. “What’s happened?” 

Jaime didn't answer at first, too angry to explain to his brother that he had been played a fool. He threw his brother’s clothes into the pile on the floor and turned. “The Maid in this castle is not worth fighting for.” She had stood in front of him, mouth qawping for words he did not wish to hear. He gave her his finest cutting smile, pointed to the portrait near the family residence and nodded. She had blustered, had huffed and attempted an excuse. But, she had not cried, not as a maid would. She had blushed and blabbered, but did not blubber. For that, Jaime was thankful. Tears were a woman’s weapons and Jaime had respected her use of swords, not emotions.

Tyrion blinked, once, twice. “So her ruse has been discovered.” He smiled and shook his large head. 

Jaime’s anger flashed into rage. “You knew?” he asked. “You knew, everyone in this gods forsaken shit hole knew and left me the idiot?”

Tyrion stumbled to get out of bed, but Jaime was pacing an angry trail around the room, kicking random items as he went. “Jaime, listen to me. Listen.”

“Why should I listen to you? You of all people here should have been on my side.” He wanted to rage harder, burn the castle to the ground. The entire time she had lied to him, had made him an idiot to the entire castle. What Jaime could not fathom, was why. Why she would treat him as such? The only rational bit in his mind came back to his house. She fooled him because she found him unworthy. Rather than tell him the truth, she hid. “I need to get out of here.”

Tyrion ran toward the now open door; his brother half out before he reached him. “Jaime, wait. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going home.” He said. “I have better chances of not being lied to so openly. Seven Hells, Tyrion, everyone knew but me.”

Tyrion pressed the heavy door as hard as he could and tried to shut it enough to get Jaime to re-enter the room. “Father will not forgive you for this. After the mess in Dorne, what do you suppose will happen?”

Jaime shrugged, “I suppose he will find some other marriageable jit to pawn me off to.” 

Tyrion played his trump card. “And Cersei? What will happen to her?”

Jaime did pause then, a thoughtful look on his face. To tell the truth, he had not considered or even thought of her much in the past moon and a half. He had spent so much time with the Wench--liar!, that he had nearly forgotten his duty. “Cersei will be fine, Tyrion. And father will understand. This isn't my fault.”

“Jaime,” he tried. “Be rational.”

“Now, what will father say of your part in the Lady of Tarth’s deception? Will you be in as much trouble as I? “ Jaime said. “You are my brother, and I love you. But, you have placed a severe divide between us. Anything you have to say to me is distorted by your lies.”

Tyrion stepped closer to the door, his brother still halfway through. “Jaime, please. Don't do this. It's obvious that girl cares for you.” Tyrion said. “I told you before, she isn't like Cersei. She has different frailties. You don't know what it's like to be...ugly. You have no idea how others look at you with disgust, pity, and if you are lucky, misshapen kindness.”

Jaime said nothing, his mind was made up, but he would let his brother have his peace before he packed his trunk. Jaime had just enough to make it back to the mainland, He would walk and swim if he had to. “Be that as it will, Tyr. I am leaving this castle. Now.”

“Jaime, I kept her secret because I empathized with her.” Tyrion dipped his massive head. “She wanted to know that Jaime Lannister wasn’t just in need of raising his status. “ Tyrion went on. “That any man could look past her...ugliness to find the softness inside. “

“She could have asked me.” He said, but not quite believing his own words.

“You never noticed how ugly she is?” Tyrion pressed. It wasn't really a question. Tyrion had witnessed his brother’s fall and knew it was never about her looks.

Jaime did not answer, blue eyes and rippled muscles were all he could think of. He had noticed the girl standing on that dock as the ugliest man he had ever had the misfortune of seeing, but her eyes had told a different story.

“That, I can sympathize with. Do really think that some maiden would marry me for more than a gaff?”

“I’m going, Tyrion. Stay if you like, I will have my things sent to the docks.” aime sent his brother a piercing glare. “I will not tell Father of your part in this, I will take the blame for you as always.”

Tyrion stuck his head through the large door, one last plea to his retreating brother’s form. “She’s in love with you, you idiot.”  
_______

Jaime stormed through the Great Hall, wishing to see Bryn one last time and hoping to avoid the Lady Brienne entirely. 

The servants dodged from his path and the Guards moved aside as he made his way through the gates. Jaime Lannister made it as far as the meadow that they had passed through the first day he had arrived on Tarth before the full truth of it hit him.

He loved her. 

The realization did little to slow his steps to freedom, in fact it made him speed faster to return home. Jaime wanted to see the back end of this dreadful island. He needed to get back home, regardless of the consequences. Father would find another match for him soon enough, and In that time he could--

But his heart clenched at the thought of sliding into that old pattern with Cersei. It was wrong, it wasn't their faults, but Cersei’s eyes didn't haunt him at night. Cersei’s laughter wasn't a bray that would put horses to shame. 

Cersei couldn't best him in a battle unless there were tears involved. 

Jaime knew he could not go back to what was, not after having what might have been.

Lies; it had all been a cruel jape for her, though. She deserved to be raffled off into marriage to some fat lord who would never let her pick up a sword again. She would be married off into obscurity, never to prove who she really was, what she really could do. 

Her endless determination to prove herself against the other knights and lords of Westeros.

How she took his instruction and learned to be a better fighter.

Who she really was inside that armor and neath those endless freckles.

He supposed, as his feet carried him across the expanse toward the coast of the island, that his father would be as angry as Tyrion had predicted. That Tywin Lannister would rail and rage, but by the time he made it back to Casterly, it would all be a moot point. She would have either stood or fallen against those in the tourney. Either way, she was lost to him forever.

The ship leaving for Estermont offered to take him as far as Storm’s End. He might be able to persuade a horse and supplies from that ancient house, a favor amongst nobles. If not, then Jaime knew he would have to get himself across Westeros by foot. Jaime was fine with that, a long walk was what he needed to forget her.


	10. Chapter 10

She would not cry.

There was little to cry for, Brienne realized her misery was self inflicted; had she only been truthful this all could have ended so differently. 

Her father had told her of Jaime’s departure,; that he had stormed from the castle with his sword and a small bag of his things. Tyrion had decided to stay on for the tourney, but Jaime had had enough.

She could not say she was surprised. Brienne knew Ser Jaime to be a man of intense action. He did not waver in following her that night to clear her island of danger. Jaime sparred with her with that same intensity.

SHe never second guessed who she was, at least when she had a sword or a mace in her hands; Brienne knew now that his trust had been a fragile thing that she had taken for granted. She had spit on it in the name of safety. Brienne had wanted to believe that, given the same circumstances to be done again she would make different choices, but the face in the mirror remained the same, as did the reality of her position.

Her father was sympathetic without offering even a circumspect affirmation of his accurate assertion of the situation. Instead, he patted her shoulder and again offered for a postponement of the tourney.

But Brienne had straightened her spine and insisted to her father that she was still determined to fight. She knew that if she didn’t, all the time spent with Jaime in the yard would have been for naught.

Tyrion Lannister stayed on, often cozied into her father’s solar. She had not been aware of their collusion until long after Tyrion had received the raven from the Maester at Storm’s End informing Tyrion that his brother had indeed been seen safely off for the west and his only message to his brother was a very curt but insistent “Fuck Off.”

He had even tried to placate her in her sorrow, for which she still had not cried. One night, a week after the raven, Tyrion had found her seated in the library seeking quiet. “You know for what it is worth, I truly believe that my brother does love you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she asked. 

Tyrion shook his head. “No, of course not.” He sighed. “I just thought, had hoped that you two would--”

She slammed her book shut and stood to her full height. “You two were no better than the lot of them. The lords and knights coming to attend this tourney. You think that Tarth is some plum cherry to better your noble standing. Have you any idea what it feels like to be a horse at market? I imagine many of them will want to check my teeth and survey my hips for breeding.”

Tyrion smiled. “You sound like him. Like Jaime. He had no desire to come. Father made him.”

“I know that.” she sneered. “He surely had no desire to wed an ugly wife.”

Tyrion glared at her as if she had grown a second head and a third arm. “Had you not noticed his demeanor around you? Had you not been able to determine he had little to know concern over your face?”

She knew, and it only made the pain creep in further into her bones. “Well, I am certain it is now pointless. I shall meet my future on the tourney field. Whoever shall wim will have my island and seat.”

“What about your heart?” Tyrion asked.

“Because that went so well the last time, did it not?” She moved to leave the library, Tyrion grabbed her arm on the way “I have made my choices, Tyrion. Now I must be resolved to live with them.”

“Or, without them.” He said.

__________________

Knights and Lords began arriving a week before the tourney. The grounds of the castle were littered with them. The meadow she had once strolled with Ser Jaime was now an endless field of tents, house banners and random cookfires. The participants from greater houses were housed in the castle in the spare rooms, while hedge knights, minor lords and some landed knights stretched across the meadow. 

Brienne had wanted to hide in her rooms, to keep the curious from seeing her and offering their piteous or condemning considerations. It was Lord Selwyn who insisted she be an open and approachable presence. “You need to learn to face those that would consider you less than them. You are not.” He had said. 

The Mormonts of Bear Island had sent no less than three women to join into the tourney. Brienne greeted them personally and found a sorority she could define herself with. She had no time to train with them, but personally ensured they had equal access to the training yards and though a lesser house, were given quarters in the family residence. 

But, even with her painted on smile and expressive words, Brienne missed him. Each house’s arrival sent a memory of someone who would have a caustic if accurate commentary on those who entered the ranks. 

Many houses were present, but many had refused. The Starks, a long standing ally to House Tarth, had gently refused their entrance into the tourney. The Tullys had sent their youngest son Oskar to fight, while the Vale was noticeably absent.

If one knight’s face was any indication, the fights in the inns in Tarth often started on the boats over from the mainland. The young knight had greeted her father in the great hall soon after arriving on Tarth. His face was ghastly enough to elicit a round of questioning from her father. The young man with the griffin surcoat merely shrugged and said some knights were less honorable than others.

The once quiet and serene backdrop of her tiny but important island had become a mummers show of false bravado and riotous hopefuls. Brienne imagined many of them surveying her lands for what they would do to change the landscape once they won. She hoped her father was taking notes; that he could spot the idiots.

Every new arrival brought a second of hope that Jaime would return. Every confirmed name in the ranks dashed that hope like a ship against the rocks. Brienne was not surprised that every name, every face, turned out to not be him. What did she expect?

She had watched as many of them in the practice yards as she could without being derelict in her duties. None of them, not a single one, came close to Ser Jaime; they were all pale ersatz knights hoping they were one iota better than the other. 

She nearly broke into tears when the Lannisters arrived just days before the tourney. Tyrion seemed uncharacteristically anxious as they made their way through the courtyard. Brienne was struck by the beauty of Cersei Lannister. Her face so like that of Jaime’s it took her breath away. Tywin Lannister was cold and stern as he made his way to the dias to take his seat next to Selwyn Tarth. 

Jaime’s absence had already been relayed through a series of ravens that Tyrion Lannister had between Tarth and the Westerlands. Out of sheer respect, Selwyn had personally sent a raven to invite them and assure them they would be treated as honored guests; that Cersei Lannister could have better chances of finding a good match at the tourney.

Brienne cringed as the elder Lannister glared at her. He was so alike and unlike her Jaime that she wondered how the two of them were related. Regal and stately far beyond that of a man of his status, Tywin took his seat as honored guest and remained silent through dinner.

Cersei Lannister, on the other hand, held court as if she had been born to it. The beautiful woman sent blazing daggers to Brienne the entire meal, But it was Tyrion Lannister who was her champion. He had chosen to sit beside her, not allowed to sit with the guards during the spectacle, she found herself sandwiched between the two siblings.

Halfway through the Honey Chicken with red onions, Tyrion whispered into her ear. “I’m going to give you a piece of advice, Lady Brienne. And, given the nature of our friendship or, lack thereof, I’m going to beg you follow it.”

She nodded, aware of Cersei speaking with the current lord of Harrenhal; she giggled at his attentions and flirted with him shamelessly. “All right.” Brienne answered, fearing what words of wisdom Jaime’s brother had for her.

He angled his head around her and cast a look at his sister, then quickly darted back to her ear. “Watch out for my sweet sister. In fact, try not to find yourself alone with her.”

It was Brienne’s turn to angle toward the beautiful woman, still basking in the attentions of Lord Crakehall. “I don't understand.”

Tyrion smiled, nodded toward Cersei who had turned at Brienne’s words. “I’m certain you don't which it why I give you this advice. Be careful, Lady Brienne. My Lady sister is not one to share.”

The first two days saw the joust. Brienne did not joust, she was excellent on a horse but her faith were in her fighting skills.

The tourney began with her father announcing the terms of the tourney. That the winner would come from the entrant with the best score. He also mentioned a final challenge that would be announced later. The crowds were confused, but Brienne smiled. Selwyn Tarth had every intention of honoring his daughter’s wishes.

There were no less than four mystery knights that had entered the tourney. Three were ousted in the joust. The fourth one, in green armor that bore no moniker nor house sigil, emerged as the final winner after ten turns against the flower of House Tyrell. The mystery knight bowed his helmed head from his horse, but galloped away with little fanfare. 

As she stood in the entryway for the tourney ground, sheltered from the summer sun, a voice slid across her armor and broke her concentration. “I should like a word with you, Lady Brienne.” 

Lady Cersei stood regal in the midst of hardened fighters ready to rip each other apart. “ You shouldn't be here My. Lady, Thai is no place for--”

Cersei smirked at her slip. “Of course,” she replied slipping her arm into Brienne’s “You are here to keep my safe from harm. Besides, our little talk won't take too much of your time. “

The others fighters tittered as Cersei walked with her toward a far corner. “There are those that would say you spent a lot of time with my dear brother. “

Brienne nodded, she watched the men leaving the joust; not wanting to answer the questions she knew Cersei Lannister would have about why her brother left. “We sparred together, Lady Cersei.”

Cersei nodded, her blonde curls bobbing along with the gesture. “I was surprised to find that my brother had left so abruptly. He so does love to fight.” She said. “I wondered, what would leave my brother to run away from a tourney so quickly?”

“Perhaps he no longer wished to marry into a wealthy house. I mean, that was the ploy from the beginning?”

Cersei smiled, a humorless and vicious thing. “We women seldom get to decide for our own fates, Lady Brienne. Even those skilled at swords must bow to the will of those over us.” She stopped walking when they were far off into the side of the field. “Are’;t all of these here for the same thing? You have rallied quite a horde of eligible men in the name of marrying into a wealthy house. What I find most interesting is why my brother wasn't worthy of it?”

Brienne removed her arm from the beautiful woman’s grasp and straightened to her full height. “Perhaps you should ask your other brother, My Lady. If you will excuse--”

“You are far better off taking one of these who are here.” Cersei waved her slender arm toward the emptying field. “These men don't have the baggage or strain that would come with marrying Jaime.”

“Jaime Lannister is a fine fighter, and a good man.” She found herself defending him before she realized the words had left her mouth.

Cersei smirked, Brienne knew then that Cersei had gotten the answers she had been looking for “Of course he is.” The beautiful woman said. “Just not for you.” Brienne watched Cersei gather her skirts and walk away as daintily as she had arrived.

The next two days would be the melee. It would be her turn to fight then, to fight and to win.


	11. Chapter 11

“Be careful.” He said to her, his hand on her cheek. 

“Father,” she smiled. “I am certain there is nothing to worry over. No one will know it's me out there.” It was true, the Tarths were careful in ensuring her anonymity in the roster. She was listed as a new entry, another mystery knight that would join for the melee. 

“You are the only child that the gods saw fit to let me keep. Forgive me for being maudlin, Brienne. But, you are my heir.”

“There are many heirs out there today, Father. I will do my best to honor our house.”

“You always have, Brienne.” Her father said, the twinkle normal to his eyes when he looked on her, somehow brighter. 

Brienne nodded and took her leave in his presence. She needed to go and put on her armor, hide who she was in the name of fairness. It wasn't to hide her sex, it was to level the playing ground. Men, less noble off the field of play would be less inclined to do damage to the the Lady of their guest. 

She emerged from the servants quarters where a lone servant girl had been trained to assist her as squire. Brienne smiled on the girl, wishing one day she could truly make her a squire, but the possibility of even gaining her own knighthood was as small as her chances of having an actual squire. 

The participants of the melee stood in the field. The mystery Knight in his green armor stood tall at the far end of the field. Horses whickered in anticipation of the battle, while the entrants, with their helmed heads and dancing banners stood tall and silent awaiting the horn blow and the Lord’s signal to begin. 

Brienne’s horse stepped as if impatient. She was nearly caught off guard by the call to begin. The field erupted into utter chaos as the fighters attempted to best each other.

Brienne whipped her mace and easily took out two approaching assailant, angling for what they must as seen as a large and lumbering target.

Typical.

So much transpired in short of a time that by the time Brienne was able to catch a glance around the tourney field, there were only seven or eight men left vying for each other, with two angling toward her. One of them was the Green Knight. He charged for her as a man on a mission. Brienne had one thought before he met her torso with his sword.

The pain spread through her like lightning hitting a dead tree. She found herself gulping for breath from the strike that dented her armor. She moved her horse away from the knight, angled toward the back of his armor and struck.

He was faster than her; she only managed to hit his horse which sent the animal into a hard gallop. The green knight crashed into the rider from the Vale, The Eagle knight fell from his horse but the Green Knight remained firmly seated.

Annoyed, she whipped her mace again and hit a Clegane. The large armored knight wobbled, but did not fall. The Clegane came at her with his massive sword, but Brienne had managed to dodge him and whipped again at his helm.

Just as the Clegane came at her with his sword raised, the green knight appeared again, attacking Clegane from behind. Brienne whipped around quick enough to find there were only the three of them remaining on the field of battle. 

As normal for his house; Clegane was massive. He stood on his horse without even failing to swing his blade. Brienne missed being felled by mere chance and speed.. Brienne wished she could remove her helmet to get a better view. The distortion of time, the yell of the crowd and the onslaught of adrenaline set her into sensory overload. She took a decision in a hare’s breadth and came at the Green Knight while he attacked the Clegane. 

Clegane, surprised at the turn of events, swung around again to face both of them. He yelled and heaved another massive swing at her. This time, Brienne was not able to elude his hit and her head and armor rang with the force of his blow. 

She felt herself slipping hold of her horse’s reins, her head vibrated still and the world seemed to want to go darker. 

She hardly had a chance to breathe before the large knight with the yellow banner fell from his own horse. Clegane fell hard, but rose again angrier than before. The Green Knight stood his ground on one side of the man, Brienne on the other. A nod between the two and they charged the larger man with strength and fury. Clegane went down and stayed down.

A cheer rose up from the stands; no time to think, Brienne charged the last challenger with all the anger she still held over Jaime’s departure. The Knight easily stepped and parried from her charge. Brienne, realising her folly nearly too late, went to the training from Goodwin.

She wore him down.

Both were already tired from the melee and their unified stance against the giant Clegane. But, Brienne had endurance and knew she could further wear him down. She knew she had to win. To defeat the man in the green armor. If he won, there would be no final round. If she won, it would be a tie, settled by the final battle tomorrow. 

The one her father had agreed to. 

She could see his strikes coming slower, the arc of them staggered and erratic. Brienne waited. She was good at that. The crowd was shouting to “FInish Him,” but Brienne could not decipher which him the unknowing crowd yelled for. Both knights were a mystery, both knights seemed to be near equal footing. 

They slashed and parried, and Brienne could feel exhaustion creeping up on her like a snake ready to strike and topple her at any moment. 

Brienne ducked low; swept at the knights legs. She had no idea that would work but exhaustion was on her side. The Green knight went down; Brienne kicked his sword from his hand and pointed hers at his throat.

“Yield!” She screamed as the crowds cheered.

The Green Knight tried to reach for his sword, Brienne stepped on his grasping hand and yelled again.

“Yield!”

He held his free hand to his head; “I yield.” 

She moved her foot from his sword hand and offered hers t o help him up. As she stood; the crowd grew louder. Selwyn Tarth stood from his place and raised his hands. “We seem to have a winner for the melee.” He said over the last of the shouting spectators.

Brienne bowed; the Green knight did the same. “Two mystery knights enter the field, but only one has emerged victorious. “ The crowd cheered again, Brienne was thunderstruck that it was for her. 

“The last of the knights still on the field shall have one more battle. The Green Knight has earned his spot as final contestant. “ A sound of confusion rippled across the stands. “The Green Knight will meet the final contestant tomorrow. “

Brienne stepped forward and received the wreath of flowers. “As winner of the melee, it is your right to name the Queen of Love and Beauty.” Selwyn said, a strange smile on his face.

Brienne removed her helmet to the shattered yells of the audience. The realization of who she was sent shockwaves through the stands. “If it please you, Father” She spoke loud and true. “I’ll give that crown when I win tomorrow.”

The Green Knight seemed undisturbed by her words, nor was he surprised at who she was. “Green Knight. You will have one final battle tomorrow with the Lady Brienne. If you win, then you shall have her hand in marriage.”

“And, if she wins?” The Knight’s words rang through his helm. “What then?”

“Jaime?” Brienne asked to the Green Knight, hope blooming in her chest. But, he only tilted his head and awaited the Evenstar’s answer.

Selwyn Tarth laughter boomed large through the stands. “Then, she will make up her own mind, Ser.”

Brienne turned to the man she had defeated. He nodded stiffly, bowed and walked away.


	12. Chapter 12

She found the short man where she knew she would; at a table with her father, drinking wine straight from the bottle. “Tyrion, I need to talk to you.”

His eyes bulged and then a smile whipped across his face. “I’m sure you have questions. Congratulations, by the way. My brother was right, you are a fierce one.”

She grabbed his arm, with an apologetic look to her father, Brienne dragged Tyrion off into the back hallway reserved for family. “Is he here?” she asked. 

“Is who here?” Tyrion asked, his face giving nothing away.

“I’ve no time for your wit, Tyrion. Your brother, is he the mystery knight?”

Tyrion grew silent and shook his head. “Do you believe that if Jaime were here, he would tell me?”

“I suppose he would. I Know how close you are.” She pressed.

“That was true before your subterfuge.” Tyrion said.

Brienne moved in closer to him. “Tyrion, I did not force you nor ask you to take part in my deception.” She glared at him. “Your choices were your own.”

Tyrion smirked. “Be that as it may, My Lady, I still would not know if Jaime were here or not.”

She studied him;he was either a great liar or had no clue about Jamie's whereabouts. “Cersei came to speak to me.”

“Really? And yet you live.” He smiled.

“She is a vicious, vile woman/.” Brienne nodded. “Would she know if Jaime were here?”

A strange look crossed Tyrion’s face; Brienne could not read it but knew there was so much more to this than he would tell. “I wouldn't know, and Brienne? I wouldn't ask her either. You might not like the response.”

________________________

Brienne forced herself to sleep that night. The revelries had gone on well past the hour she crawled up into her room. Thoughts of Jaime filtered through her and kept her tossing and turning.

Green eyes and a smile that could cut glass were what haunted her. Had he returned? No one knew who the Green Knight was, he was as much of a mystery as ever. She had asked around, as inconspicuously as possible, but no one seemed to know. There were bets; a Stark, a bastard Baratheon or even a Dornish prince with a penchant for dramatic effect. None of these seemed to fit the profile, none of these seemed right.

Brienne twisted his moves over and over in her head that night. They didn't seem like Jaime’s fluid motions, but then she had only seen him fight in armor once, and there were raiders to be bested that day.

She wished for it to be him, to be the man she still missed and longed to see, even if it were one last time. 

____________

The morning was misty, heavy with the air of the sea warmed but the high summer sun. Brienne stood in the Great Hall, watching the preparations for the final fight. She had been surprised by the outpouring of respect from the other houses. She had thought that her reveal yesterday would have shunned her from any prospective alliances. In contrast, the fighters had slapped her back and wished her luck. 

Cersei Lannister had remained a cold, vile wart on an otherwise high in her life. The beautiful woman, in the midst of breaking her fast, had spoken of freakish people being so highly regarded in present society. That any lauding of those with obvious imperfections shouldn't’ be hidden away from sight instead of pushed in front of others with fair less sturdy sensibilities.

“She’s jealous of you. “ Tyrion said, his wine glass already on it's second refill. “Give them a good show today, My Lady.”

She had nodded and ignored the further diatribe of the woman; female guile was not something Brienne took to. By the time the morning meal was complete, the time was called for the final battle. 

She met him on the field of battle. The man was still hidden behind his green helm. He bowed low to her and she him. Brienne wondered if he would go easier on her now that he knew who she was. 

“Worry not, My Lady of Tarth.” The man rumbled low from under his helm. “Once we are wed, you shall not trouble yourself with these men's things. I intend to keep you well far away from anything that could slice my cock off.”

Anger boiled within her. “As if you will win.” She growled and dropped the visor of her helm. “I don't need a sword to emasculate you, Ser. I’ll use my bare hands.”

The battle begun with the sound of the horn. One on one combat with swords. Brienne settled into her stance, her eyes flashed at the man in front of her. “I love a woman with a sense of humor. But, you will lose and you will lay down your sword.”

She came at him, again realizing her mistake. This time, it was too late. The Green Knight had learned her tactics the day before, had caught on her angry attack. She would not be wearing him down this time. This time, he was on the attack.

His strikes were hard, powerful. He advanced on her and Brienne felt the strength of his blows. She was on the defense, a stance she was not used to having. The Knight parried all of her blows as a child swiping at a fly. She regretted her fretful night, Brienne had enough time to curse her maidenly ruminations that robbed her of the sleep she should have gotten. His strikes were smooth and true. 

The crowds were yelling, they were yelling for her. She could hear shouts of her name through the onlookers. 

They were rooting for her.

The power of that knowledge lit a flame within her belly. All thoughts left her muddled head and she refocused on her opponent. She heard a chuckle light from the man in front of her as he took the defense. She came at him with all the force and power of a beast unleashed from it's chains. 

Both opponents battled each other with steely determination. The sun beat down upon them and Brienne could feel herself baking in her armor. He was close, as close as a lover as he shoved her. Brienne lost her footing, fell to the ground. She rolled in time to miss his strike, but he was upon her before she could gain her footing again. He straddled her hips, Brienne felt every pound of his flesh baring done upon her. “Yield,” he screamed.

“Never,” she howled. Brienne thrust her hips as hard as she could, her body seemed to be moving on it's own. Her lower body strength did not let her down. The Green Knight tumbled from his position and Brienne rolled them over. “Yield.” she screamed, her voice rough and hoarse, her sword at his throat.

He thrust his hand from her hold and flung her back from her grasp. The Knight kicked at her as she tumbled backwards. Brienne managed to keep hold of her sword, but barely. “You will yield, Lady Brienne.” He screamed from under his helm.

I will not yield, she told herself. I don't care who is under that helm. I will not yield.

But, the sweat was stinging her eyes, the heat of midday was cloying her in her armor and Brienne could not find will to continue. She scrambled to her feet as fast as she could, her sword grasped in her hand. 

“I object.” a voice called from a distance. A lone figure stood at the far end of the field. Jaime Lannister looked to all like the Lion of Night in his Lannister armor. He marched steadily toward the pair. “I was here first.” he said.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for yesterday. I had a thing to do and no internet there. There will be a second chapter soon to follow to make up for it, you beautiful patient readers.

Jaime pointed his sword at the woman he had hauled ass across the Narrow Sea for. “I’ll deal with you in a second.” He grinned at her lewdly, then turned back to the man in green. “You, yes you.” He shouted. “WHo are you under that armor?

The crowds erupted, the shouting nearly drowning out the interplay between the two men on the field. Jaime turned his thousand sun smile at them and bowed. “Lords and Ladies, please allow me to have a word with these two before they continue.”

There was an audible gasp, whispers of his name wheeled through the crowd like a wave crashing on the sand. Jaime held up his hand and smiled brighter. “I promise I will allow these two to finish.” He turned back to the Green Knight once silence fell upon the crowd. 

“Jaime, what are you doing here?” The Lying Wench asked him. He gave her another cutting smile before continuing his parley with the Green Knight. “Who are you?” he asked him

The Green Knight did not answer, but his head tilted at Jaime’s question. Annoyed, Jaime nodded back and turned to Bryn--Brienne. “A word.” he said. 

Jaime grasped her arm and pulled her off to the far side of the field. The Green Knight stepped to follow, but halted himself at Jaime’s gaze “Don't worry,” he said. “She’ll be back to finish you off.”

Brienne halted him in the cooler entryway of the tourney field, where she had only two days ago been accosted by the sister of the man she now found herself sequestered. “Jaime, what in the hell are you doing?’

“I was going to ask you the very same question.” He said. “You’re dying out there.”

Brienne dipped her head and had no words for an answer. She shook off the tears threatening to give her away. “You left.” she said.

Jaime nodded. “You lied.” 

She took two steps away from him and blanched. “You have no right to call names, Ser. You were here under the auspices of wedding a wealthy maiden. You assumed you would find some blushing, wilting flower; ugly and desperate enough to fall for your--” Jaime cut her off with the only thing he had wanted to do since they had first sparred. Away from the crowd, in the wilting heat and stinking ante room. Jaime pressed his lips to hers and wound his arms around her. 

She punched him. 

Jaime grinned and rubbed his jaw. “That’s my girl.”

“I’m not your girl.” she said, face as red as the rubies on the hilt of his sword. 

“Now, take that anger and go finish off that idiot in green. Then, yo and I can finish what we started.” He sad. “Your a great, stubborn Wench. You can beat him and make your own rules.”

“There is no finishing anything here, Ser Jaime.” 

Jaime laughed at her, what else could he do? She had returned his kisses with a fire that made him swelter in his armor. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life.” She breathed without hesitation. 

He leaned into her for another kiss; Brienne didn't punch him this time. He counted it a victory.

“I’m nobody’s ‘girl.” She said to his retreating form.

“Good,” He called back as the crowds seemed anxious for something to happen “Now, go prove that to the Green Idiot.”

____________________

In the end, she wiped the floor with him. Jaime watched from his perch near the center of the field, Brienne had lost her focus, and he knew it was the unfinished words with him. He could not tell what made him turn and grab a boat. Perhaps it was the sheer flow of people heading for Tarth. Maybe it was his stupid, angry heart that had known his leaving was cowardly. Fear of father’s wrath? Wanting to see Cersei?

It was probably the grinning idiot in the griffin surcoat who had made some offhanded comment about the Bear of Tarth. He’d shuffled that fool’s teeth and face for speaking of a high born lady that way. And, it made him realize the calibre of idiot that had enrolled into the ranks of suitor. 

Jaime, in good conscience, found that he could not leave her to her fate. And, found he wanted to watch her beat all and sundry into the ground

Especially that smirking ass Connington. 

As the last of the competitors were taught who was boss, Jaime smiled as he watched Brienne accept her win, her small crown of flowers and another crown to place on some poor unfortunate soul’s head.

Then, he realized she was looking for him.

He realized, as she stood there gaping in the afternoon sun, what he had to do. 

Jaime strolled into the field again, the crown still on their feet. He faced the Wench and smiled. She lifted her arms to place the flowers on his head. Jaime snatched the thing from her hands and threw it into the crowd. “On your knees, Wench.” He said to her quietly.

“Jaime?” she asked, her iridescent eyes scanning his face, seeking answers he knew he would soon give. “Just do it.” he growled low. “You said you trusted me.”

Brienne hit her knees as if pushed by some unseen hand. He smiled at her for an instant, then his face went grave. He had nothing to give her, no gold nor proper title anyone would give a damn about. But, if he was never to see her again, he could do this one thing for her in her moment of glory.

As an audible gasp shuffled through the stands, Jaime withdrew his sword; the same he had used to fend off the Brotherhood; the same he had used in every useless battle he could recall. He hefted it at her shoulder and said the words that Arthur Dayne had once said to him.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Second update today, cause I was a bad girl yesterday.

To say his father was livid would be to say that winter was cold. Jaime found himself alone in Lord Selwyn’s solar with Tywin Lannister who's angry glare could melt sand. “What in the 7 hells were you thinking out there?” His father said for, what must have been, the 11 hundredth time in the hour he had been glaring at his son. 

Haime wanted to shrug--again. But, Tywin had threatened bodily harm had he produced his signature answer to his father’s rants. Instead, Jaime smiled, dipped his head, and thought of the color blue. 

“You have shamed us all and made a mockery of knighthood in this realm. I can't imagine our house being any further in the dirt than what it has been for the last century. And yet, you managed to throw us further down the ranks.”

If you only knew,Father. Jaime thought to himself as he considered Cersei’s legs wrapped around him. 

“You have angered house Umber. The Greatjohn says his son was robbed of the marriage.”

“She would have beaten him regardless, Father. She was already winning when I showed up.” She wasn’t, and Jaime knew that. But, to tell the truth would inhilate his own argument.

Tywin Lannister considered him then, “WHy did you turn back up, Jaime. What lead you to turn around and return here?” Jaime’s silence made the older man go on. “WHat is that girl to you?”

“The finest knight I have ever known.” He said without a beat. “Or, at least she is now.”

“Thanks to you.” Tywin quipped.

Jaime nodded, and found that something coiled in the pit of his belly. Something like pride. He was proud of the girl; SHe wanted to win and he was happy she gets to choose the rest of her life. She got her freedom, but Jaime was certain his was soon to be wiped away.

“Lord Selwyn has yet to meet with me. I am certain this has cemented any chance against joining our houses.”

Jaime did shrug then, but Tywin let it go. “She should have the choice, Father.”

Tywin glared at his son. “You, on the other hand, have new responsibilities to account for.” He slid a parchment to Jaime. Jaime was afraid to read it, but realizing it was a yet to be signed marriage contract, he scuffed. “Who are you fobbing me off to? Some babe still at the teat? A bastard but wealthy Tyrell?”

Tywin did not answer. He waited for Jaime to become curious enough to read the agreement. Jaime sighed, realizing his fate would be sealed regardless. He turned the paper to read it. “Really?” he asked. 

“The Umbers want to be reimbursed for your foolery.”

“The Maid of Tarth did her own foolery, I just reminded her of her abilities.” He should have stayed gone, or, ducked out after the battle. Damn Tyrion and his brotherly love. He could have made a clean getaway had Tyrion not sent for him. Still mad at the little imp, but still, Jaime loved him more than nearly anyone in the world.

Nearly. 

“And how does she feel about this?” He asked with a grin. Grateful he had dodged another bullet, but saddened at what this meant for the woman he had once loved. Once. 

“Your sister will do her duty. And you, will do yours. “

Jaime’s head shot up. “What does that mean?” he asked.

Tywin Lannister never smiled. At least, not since the death of his wife. But, in the dimly lit solar, Jaime could swear he could see one side of his father’s mouth twisting into something akin to a grin. “You knighted his daughter.”

“No,” Jaime said.

“You came back for her.”

“No,” Jaime said. “How many times do I have to say it? The girl just earned her freedom. She doesn't want nor need to be tied to anyone.”

Tywin Lannister studied his son. “You will do as you are told.”

Jaime decided he would most certainly not.

_____________________________

She was waiting for him outside of her father’s solar. She stood tall and proud and Jaime felt his cock twitch. “You knighted me.” She said in the hallway.

Jaime nodded. “You earned it. None of these poor excuses for knights would even see how fierce you are.”

“You kissed me.” She said, her face still guarded. “Why would you do that?” Brienne took a step closer.

Jaime could have said any number of things to her at that moment; things his father would want him to say to take the girl’s freedoms away. Permanently tie her to him and his disgraced house. “It worked, didn't it?” he grinned, instead.

“Are you mocking me?” she asked, a frailty in her voice.

Jaime hated himself for what he knew he must do. He could have her, and she him. But, his father would always try to take away what she earned.

And Cersei.

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Bryn. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go and see my sister.” He said.

“It’s late, Jaime. I am certain she is in her chambers by now.”

“Which is exactly why I wish to see her.” Jaime glared at her, waiting for her to catch on. “Have I shocked you, Lady Brienne?”

Brienne’s mouth clamped shut. “You are as vile as she is.”

“You’re too ugly to understand what true love is.” He turned on his heel and left her gaping in the hallway.

Her voice drifted behind him, “You were well away, Ser. Why did you come back?”

His heart felt as heavy as lead, and he wanted to lie to her, to tell her anything else that would make her run from him. To be free. 

“I dreamed of you.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this will be finished soon. I am sorry for the delay yesterday. But, how's bout that premiere? Jaime is definitely 200000000 percent done with the mad queen!

She’d watched him leave, his red cape swirling around the corner of the back hallway as he made his escape. Brienne sighed and felt her heart want to go after him.

He had all but said he had been sleeping with his sister. It explained so much and yet so little. Cersei’s behavior was that of a woman in possession, of course he would choose her over a tall, lumbering ox.

She made her way back to the great hall. There were still those in attendance, though most were either drunk, sleeping on the tables, or in no state to do much more than lean on the person beside them. 

Tyrion, of course, was struggling to keep one of the servants. He had a glass in one hand and a smile on his face as the small woman held on to the small space for dear life. He raised his glass when he saw her and smiled. “Ah, there is my soon to be good sister now. Tell me, Brienne. How ever will you manage to keep my beloved brother in line without resorting to violence?” 

Brienne moved to stand next to the pair, her blues eyes lashing in anger. “I’m not to be your good sister, your brother has another ‘sister’ he favors.”

Tyrion shooed the girl off of his lap and stood. “Oh, I see what’s happened here.” He smiled. “Did my brother share his deepest secret with you?”

Brienne nodded.

Tyrion sighed. “He hasn't touched her since he left to come here. My dear sister had no idea of his whereabouts, nor his return until, I dare say, we all discovered. “

“Be that as it may, I would much rather not be discussing your brother any time soon.”

“Pity, then. You two would make a formidable pair. Why, I could live off of the tourney bets alone from the pair of you.”

“You are a funny man, Tyrion. But, I have no humor tonight.”

He sat down in the seat next to the one that Brienne had slumped into. “I see.” He said. “Ut, might I tell you a small tale, My Lady?”

She turned to him. “Is there any way to not hear it?”

“No,” Tyrion laughed. “I suppose not.” Brienne motioned for him to continue.

“Our father has always wanted to return our house to what it once was. He has pawned off those twins on anyone he thought to better our station.”

“I had ascertained as much.”

“Jaime had a good chance to get that in Dorne. We were all parcelled off to the Water Gardens. Jaime would marry Arianne Martell and Cersei would wed Doran, since the death of his wife he has been a lonely man.

“However, Cersei did not want to be married off into the Martell family. She wanted to be queen. We all know that was never going to happen.”

No, the Targaryens had hated the Lannisters for more years than recorded history. Of course that would never happen.

Tyrion went on. “That, of course did not stop our sweet sister from dreaming. Dreams can be powerful motivators. As, of course, you well know.”

Jaime’s final words drifted across the void to her, she could nearly feel the breath of the whisper in her ear. “But, it did not happen.”

Tyrion shook his head. “Jaime was ready to accept his fate. His duty. Something else I am certain you are familiar with. “ He nodded at her. “Something happened and, Jaime took the blame for what he didn't even know had transpired.”

“And, what did transpire,” Brienne asked.

“Cersei, happened.” He said with an air of dismissal.

Brienne studied the smaller man next to her. Jaime had loved Tyrion more than anyone else in his family. She knew from the way they interacted, the way he spoke of Tyrion and the adventures they had as children. Jaime had been a good big brother to him, so it begged a question. “WHy didn't you tell Jaime who I was when, clearly, you are the brains of the family?”

Tyrion took a sip of his wine. “You think I kept your secret because I didn't trust my brother?” He surmised. “You’re right. In a way. I wanted him to fall for someone other than that caustic bitch of a sister we share. I wanted him to see who you were without judging you against her.”

Brienne shook her head. “That doesn't make much sense.” 

“My brother has been blinded by a one sided love for most of his life. He has never so much as kissed another woman. Cersei lead him around by the nose. He has no idea.”

“No idea of what?” she asked him.

Tyrion finished his glass and sighed. “I’d rather not air all the family laundry here in front of you, My Lady. But, suffice to say, our sweet sister does not like to be alone.”

“She was caught with someone in Dorne.” Brienne pieced together. “Someone not Doran Martell.”

“And Jaime does not know. Or at least, doesn't know right now. Jaime and Cersei were summarily returned to Casterly with a definitive no to the betrothal

Brienne nodded, suddenly feeling bad for Jaime. Not that he would willfully continue to commit incest, but that he had been fooled by everyone he had ever loved. Including herself. She had no doubt he loved her. 

And she had fooled him as well, no better than the woman using her love for him as a weapon.

She knew his final truths were both a way to tell her and a means to get out of anything she had dreamed of between the two of them. “Your sister is a harpy.”

Tyrion through his head back and laughed. “Lady Brienne, such language.” he said with the laugh still coming around his words. “You, my dear, are quite the opposite of Cersei. That should tell you something.”

Should it? “He has refused me.” she said.

“Are you so sure of that?” 

Brienne shook her head. No, he had not outright told her to fuck off, but his words held more bite than his sword had ever against her. “What should I do?” she whispered to him, as if saying the words any louder would cause him to mock her.

Tyrion’s mismatched eyes fell on her. “I’m the master of subterfuge. You let me handle my brother.” He tipped his glass to her “Us uglies have to stick together. Perhaps, there is hope for me yet,” He finished sadly.

Brienne leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Any woman would be most fortunate to have you, Tyrion Lannister.”

A smile not unlike Jaime’s broke across his face. “Oh, Lady Brienne. It would be my pleasure to upgrade to a finer sister than the present one I have.”

________________

He was waiting for her in her ante rooms, feasting on her breakfast. “How are you awake this early after last night?”

Tyrion took another slice of bacon from her plate and smacked his lips. “We have things to accomplish, you and I.” 

Brienne slid into the seat opposite him and took her breakfast plate from his small grasp. “Do we?” she asked. 

“Jaime has left the castle. Again.” He announced, but Brienne noted he was smiling. 

She dipped her head and began moving food around her plate. “Of course he has. “ she said. “He wants nothing to do with me. And how do we have things to do if Jaime has left? And why in the seven hells are you smiling?”

Tyrion’s smile slid into a wider, more smug cadence. “I am smiling, because he left last night. While you and I were cloistered in our grand discussion. My brother took his leave. Again.”

“That’s not funny,” she whispered.

“I didn't say it was funny, but it is the reason I am smiling.”

Brienne slammed her goblet of water onto the table in frustration. “Does your brother put up with this? This cavalier attitude and circular speech patterns? Because, I find it quite grating.”

Tyrion continued to smile as he reached over and plucked the last piece of bacon from her plate. I am smiling because he left the castle, and yet Cersei is still here. She’s been alone all night.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. real life happened. Last chapter maybe tomorrow? And, I may be coerced into an epilogue. 
> 
> Maybe.

Jaime was grateful for the many times he had transversed the journey from Evenfall Hall to the harbor and town. It was still dark as he found a comfortable enough place to sleep for the night. He kicked a patch under a large tree at the edge of the forest, not wanting to be in town with the other still receding tourney goers.

He’d done the right thing. It was the mantra he held in his head as he scooted into his dug out sleeping space. She needed to be free and he could understand that. There was no doubt of consequences in all of this; his father would not go quietly into obscurity. And, with Cersei marrying laterally, the burden of responsibility was far squarer on his shoulders.

The steady trail of horses and bawdy revelers along the trail near him was almost enough to keep him awake into the night. But, somehow, Jaime managed to tuck into slumber.

Morning was cold. Summer was still in full blast but the island benefited from cool sea breezes and a nearly unworldly mist Jaime sat up with the larks and rubbed his still tired eyes. A distant sound of hooves made him stand to attention, his hand resting upon his sword hilt. 

He had heard many other travellers transverse the great expanse between the castle and town, but these were different. Their stride seemed purposeful and less drunken than the others that had passed by his silent campsite. Jaime stood then; his hand planted upon the hilt of his sword. 

“Hail, Ser Jaime.” The Tarth soldiers surround him. It's in his mind that this is the end; that his knighting of the heir to Tarth may have been a step too far. He would gladly do that again, each and every night if need be, to ensure that all knew what a fine knight the Evenstar’s daughter was. 

“If I knew you were coming, I’d have set out a spread.” Jaime smiled. “Hail to you, Eddrick. I see you wake with the sun.”

The five soldiers laughed, but Jaime could find little humor in the situation. He was certain he was being hauled to the damp cells below the castle. “COme to see me off?” he asked. 

The one Jaime recalled as Denten shook his head. All of them had drank with Jaime, sparred with him and swapped stories, back when he thought Bryn was merely one of their own. “Ser Jaime, we have come to escort you.”

Jaime considered his options. He knew he was outnumbered but that never worried him. He had always been good with odds against him. He looked at the faces of the men he knew well, those he had fought alongside during the Ironborn raid of the island. He had even considered them friends. Could he cut them down? “Thanks for the offer, but, sadly, not necessary. I am certain I can find my way without an escort.”

“Be that as it may, Ser Jaime. We are acting upon orders. You understand?”

Jaime shrugged. Of course he did. “So, back to the castle then? The cells where I will rot”

“You will rot, Ser , but not in the cells.” Denten laughed. “It's to be a much more comfortable prison for you. Eventually.”

Jaime drew his sword, “I’m no good with games and puzzles. That’s my brother’s fare. A sword then, though I have no desire to hurt any of you, I shall not rot in any prison no matter how prettily festooned for a minor lord.”

The men shared a look between them. It was Starden, the older soldier, who spoke finally. “Ser Jaime. We are here to escort you in any journey you choose. Our orders are to ensure your safety.”

Jaime hated being left out of the joke, it was the one thing that lead him to run from the girl in the first place. But this? He hated the confusion that lead him to scratch his head in wonder. “I don't understand.”

Eddrick dismounted from his horse. “As the betrothed of the Evenstar’s daughter, it is our duty to make sure you journey safely.”

“I’m not--” Jaime shook his head. “I’m not marrying anyone.” He looked on each of the men “I’ve knighted the Lady of the castle. Surely that has marked me as a traitor.”

“It's marked you as a fine specimen for the Evenstar to consider as marriage material for his daughter.” Starden added. “You of all those men saw what she really is, Ser Jaime. Not one of those ‘knights’ took her seriously. You, on the other hand, have.”

“I was certain to be in the cells for that.” Jaime said to himself. “I have no intention of marrying Brienne.” 

The men laughed, Starden seemed fit to fall from his horse with guffaws. “That’s not what has been decided. You will have to fight her first, of course. She insists.”

“She has agreed to this?” he blinked, unsure of the implication. “It's supposed to be her choice.”

They all nodded, the horses danced in frustration of sitting too long. Eddrick placed a hand on the blonde man;s shoulder. “It's a duty, Ser Jaime. Something I know well that you hold as dear as she.”

Jaime’s anger rose as he studied his new traveling companions. He paced in front of the horses and weighed his options. “You are to accompany me wherever I shall go?” he asked.

They nodded, “And to ensure your safe journey. After all, you are to be Lord one day, though not anytime soon, gods be good.”

“We can find a ship, get you back to the Westerlands.” Eddrick said, pointing his horse in the direction of the harbor. “We are authorized to pay your full passage and to accompany you.”

“Or,” Starden mulled over. “We could go to Essos. A fine trip. I’ve never been to Essos. I would much like to have a turn at one of those dark haired beauties the song go on about.” A mutter of assertion rumbled through the men. “A good adventure before duty tightens its fingers round your neck.”

Jaime nodded. “No,” he said. There was only one place for him to go, now.


	17. Chapter 17

It was a stormy, early morning when the ships reached the ports along the harbor. She sighed and motioned to her guards to lower the planks. Brienne had been tired from the long journey, but their arrival ignited a fire within her that brokered no more hesitations.

“So,” Tyrion said from her side, his beard had grown through the journey and he had refused all offers of a razor. “Welcome to my humble home town.”

“Your brother has a foul sense of humor.” she bit as they made their way down the plank. No one greeted them, save for the usual sailors and dock workers that seemed to litter the Lannisport coast.

Tyrion nodded but smiled at her assertion. “You did give him his freedom.”

She clutched her hand to her sword pommel and descended aside the smaller man. “I had assumed he would have good sense.”

“He does.” Tyrion said. “You’re here, aren't you?”

Brienne could not argue with that logic. When the raven had crested over the walls of Evenfall, she had already been waiting for Jaime’s return. She had not, however, expected the raven to be sent from Storm’s End. “Not sure if it's good or bad that I am here, Tyrion.”

“And, what does that say about you?” He asked the tall woman. “That you would circumvent the continent to go and retrieve the maiden fair from the castle?”

“He’s not the maiden--” she swallowed the rest of her words. Of course he was. Golden and beautiful and stalwart. He was the maiden in the songs. Tyrion’s question made her smile. “I suppose that makes me the valiant knight then.” She said “I suppose all we need now is a dragon.”

“Well, my sweet sister is currently on her way to the North. If you think on it Ser, you’ve already rescued the fair maiden.”

Brienne snorted and mounted one of the waiting horses. Tyrion had told her it was on mutual consent that neither brother attend Cersei Lannister’s upcoming wedding to the Northerner. “How high are the towers of Casterly?” Brienne asked as the small sortie made it's way toward the castle. “Should I need a dragon to ascend, or, at least entice him down from his roost?”

Tyrion grinned. “I do believe this is the start of a beautiful siblinghood.”

_____________________

Castery was beautiful; and fearsome. As they approached, Brienne held her breath as the castle loomed over their encroaching party like a lion displeased. She had wondered what had possessed Jaime to return here; did he not want her? Was she making a huge mistake goaded on by a drunken dwarf?

Tyrion whistled that terrible dirge as they made for the Golden Tooth. Lannister men met and nodded them through the gates. Their departure from Tarth went unannounced, but she knew Jaime was expecting her.

“Where are you going?” She asked Tyrion’s retreating form. He had dismounted from his horse in a special stall of the stables and continued to whistle as he made for the exit.

“It's noon, Ser.” he said. “I’m certain you’ll know where to find my dear, but tragically dense, brother?”

SHe knew, but not where to find the training yards in the immense but dilapidated lands of the once grand castle. Tyrion waved a short arm in the direction of the yards and continued his stroll toward the main door. “I doubt you will want nor need my attendance to your reunion. I’ll just be in the way.”

“Tyrion.” She called across the expanse of muck and mud. He turned to her with a curious stare. “Thank you. FOr everything.”

Tyrion nodded, turned and continued his path. Left alone, Brienne suddenly felt all of the strength pour out of her. She felt her knees shaking as she walked toward the training yard. She could hear sounds of swords and male voices. Her soldiers were laughing and training with ardor, but she saw no sign of Jaime.

“My Lady, Ser.” Starden offered with a bow. “I trust your journey was a good one.”

“I would rather have not taken it at all.” she snapped before remembering herself. “I would speak to Ser Jaime.”

The other guards of her house who had travelled with Jaime shared a look. “What?” she asked.

“Wench,” He spoke from behind her. Brienne turned to find Jaime Lannister with sword in hand. He held the wooden practice sword slung over his shoulder, a tight but smug grin graced his features. “Have a nice journey over?”

Brienne felt her right hand clench, she wanted to smack the smug look from his face, His cavilier nature felt a slight to her own confusion at his actions. “Did you?” she parried.

Jaime turned to look at the collection of islanders that had made the long journey from Tarth to Casterly with him. “Fun, right gentlemen?” he smirked. But, the five soldiers loyal to Tarth seemed to find anything in the crumbling training yard far more interesting than Jaime’s questions.

Brienne noted their silence and contained a smirk of her own. “Ser Jaime, your choice of travel was your own, as I am certain, my soldiers told you.”

Jaime nodded but did not stop grinning. “They did.” He cast a glare to the pack of soldiers who, suddenly, agreed that the ale house in Lannisport would be a great place to visit. “So, I chose to go home.”

Upon mention, the small band of men dispersed into varying paths, each one leading as far from the steaming couple as possible. Jaime gave the retreating men a carefree wave and smiled back at Brienne.

She scowled. “I can see that.” Brienne tilted her head. “But, your sister was still at Evenfall when you left. Why come home?”

He rounded on her then, “You think I came here to await my sweet sister’s embrace?” He tossed a wooden sword at her and Brienne caught it effortlessly. Jaime spread his arms in deference to the location. “And, where is she?”

Brienne huffed, but settled into her stance. “At her wedding by now, I would presume.” She took a few practice swings of her sword as Jaime settled into his own stance, a fire alight in his eyes.

“Where would you have gone?” he asked, advancing upon her. “If you were given the choice. Where would you go?”

“Home.” She said simply. They danced in a circle around each other. “I would have gone home.” Brienne agreed. “Which is why I sent you on your own. I gave you your freedom.”

“There’s that arrogance of wealth.” Jaime laughed. “You gave me my freedom. As if it was yours to give.”

Brienne shook her head. “You know full well that is not how I mean it.”

“Oh?” he said. “How do you mean it then, Lady Brienne. You held all of the power when you pretended to be someone you were not.”

“I was protecting myself. You know nothing of what it is like to be born ugly. To have well meaning people offer advice and condolences as if someone is only defined by their looks.”

“Or their purse.” Jaime fired back.

“So, neither of us understand the other.” Brienne said. “Or, perhaps, it is the one thing that unites us in misery.”

“Much as marriage would.” Jaime said.

“You think I want this any more than you? Duty, Jaime. We knew where all of this was leading to. We knew that each action and decision would likely end here. Even if it weren’t to each other, we still would have a duty. We couldn't run forever.”

“Would your duty had lead you to the North, My Lady?” Jaime sneered. “To be nothing more than a breed sow for Manderley?” He flipped the wooden sword around in his skilled hands. Tossing it from one to the other. “Had you lost that duel, it would be you on your way to a wedding. Not my sister.”

“Would you have preferred that? Did I come in between the two of you?” She asked, mimicking his movements.

“In so many ways, none of which you would believe.”

“Then, let’s have at it, Ser Jaime. Let’s do this one last fight and be done with duty and oaths. I’ll beat you and return to my island.”

“Whether I win or not. I still lose.” Jaime gave a succinct nod. “It’s not a hard idea to fathom, My Lady. I don't wish to marry.”

“Neither do I.” Brienne admitted. He came at her then, as he had that first time when she had angered him with her arrogance. Brienne could barely keep from falling from his onslaught. She knew she was good, had earned her freedom with her sword and mace. But, in that moment, she realized she would never have bested Jaime Lannister on that field.

His attack was relentless. She parried his thrust only to find another as if he had two swords. Brienne was certain she was drowning. As good as she knew herself to be, Jaime was far faster and more agile. How she ever thought he was the man in the green armor was madness. Manderly had no finesse, none of the agility that Jaime did. Her wooden sword flew from her hand, and she, foolish as a green maid first flowered, watched it fly across the dilapidated training yard.

“Yield,” he said, without even a break in his breathing. She could only stand, feeling as if the very ground had shifted and fell from below her feet. Brienne dropped to her knees. “I yield.”

Jaime threw his own sword across the field and slid to the ground. “I don't wish to marry,” he said.

“I understand.” Brienne nodded, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment. Of course, why would anyone want to marry a lumbering beast of a woman?

“I don't think you do.” Jaime said, “I don't want to marry anyone. But,” He drew a shuddering breath then. “My father would over run your tiny island, destroy everything beautiful about your family and leave your coiffers bereft in the name of family legacy.” Jaime’s verdant gaze burned into her. “I will not have that happen.”

“Do you think my family is that stupid?” she asked. “Do you believe we hadn't survived these last hundred years of peace by allowing anyone marrying into our house to run rickshaw over us?”

“Brienne.” Jaime moved closer, his knees shuffling toward her. “It’s a done deal. My father has sealed our fates. “ He placed his sword hand on hers. “If I must marry…”

“Jaime, wait.” She held up her other hand. “You’ve beaten me in combat. Our families have agreed on terms...but we still have a choice. We can still choose our own fates.”

He quirked a smile. “What about all that honor and oaths and duty, Lady Brienne?”

She squeezed his hand. “If we must marry, then we shall accept our fates.” She smiled shyly. “But, we can accept them when we are ready.”

That dazzling smile she craved to see on his face returned. “We can wait.”

“For as long as we desire it.” She nodded.

He nearly tripped into her, but she caught him as he came to her. His lips found hers and their kiss was devastating; she wanted him, in every way possible. Could she wait? It was his choice, and she was willing to give him the freedoms he had not had in his life. Knowing this would set both Tywin and possibly her own father on edge would be worth it. Worth this.

He broke the kiss and looked into her eyes. “If I must marry, then,” Jaime swallowed as if trying to suck the words he wanted to say back down into his throat. “If I must marry, then I am glad it is you.”

Her hand found his cheek, she revelled in the feel of his skin sinking into hers. One flesh. “Me too.” She nodded.


	18. Epilogue

Casterly had come to life for the wedding. Looking at his home, Jaime could imagine the grandeur of it in it's heyday. The bride had been insistent in her demands. She had wanted a wedding to rival those fairy tales she loved as a child. 

For his part, Tyrion looked contrite. Finally, something that his quick witted brother could find no words for. 

“It’ll be fine.” Jaime reassured the smaller man as they toured the damages. Bannisters had been replaced and polished to a shine. Carpets hauled out and replaced with newly commissioned pieces. Tapestries were cleaned, mended and hung on freshly scrubbed walls. 

“This is what father had wanted all along.” Tyrion sighed into his glass of port. Jaime knew his brother wasn't mourning their father. Tywin Lannister’s death had been sudden but there had never been any love lost between the father and son. 

“It’s nothing, little brother. The place could use a little lifting. Father had the right of it.”

“That’s about all he had the right of.” Tyrion said. 

Jaime nodded. What else could he say? “Well, the place is yours, you can do with it as you like now.” Tyrion nodded, but the concern still crawled over his features. 

They had made it to the main courtyard where servants with strange accents continued to busy about. Jaime hardly recognized the place, especially with all the new faces wreaking havoc on his childhood home. It wouldn't be his, but he knew Tyrion would continue their father’s drive to make the castle and their name as great as it once had been. Tyrion, however, would be far more reputable and compassionate in his command of House Lannister. 

“So, when does the Lady arrive?” Tyrion asked his brother.

“What lady?” Jaime asked with a grin. Every time he thought of her, Jaime found the corners of his mouth fighting for sanity.

“There’s that look. I’ve seen it enough times to know you know damn well what lady I am referring to.”

“She’ll be here. She’s coming from quite a distance, you know.”

Tyrion nodded. “The wedding is in two weeks. Will she make it in time?” He asked.

Jaime sighed. “It’s not her nature to not honor her promises, Tyrion. She’ll be here. She’s the entire reason for this thing.”

Tyrion smirked. “Well, not entirely.”

____________________________________

She did show up on time, just as jaime knew she would. The tall wench came riding through the gates with her retinue. Including her father and the five knights who had served as his babysitters. She smiled when she saw him, a brilliant affectation that made her eyes more beautiful. Jaime held her horse’s leads as she dismounted. “I knew you would make it on time.” He said. 

“Who doubted I would?” Brienne said. Jaime tilted his head in the direction of his younger brother. “Of course he would. I probably ruined some side bet he had going on.”

“Well, it is an important day.” Tyrion shrugged. “It's not everyday that one marries. Actually, it should only be once in a lifetime.”

Brienne’s eyes met Jaime’s. The two shared identical grins. “For the gods’ sakes. You two.” He shook his head. 

Brienne turned to the younger man. “Keep it up, little man, and I will put a spear through you and serve you at the feast.”

Jaime smiled at her fierceness, yet knew, when it came to Tyrion, her claws weren’t sharp. “Be, kind, My Lady, Wench. Tyrion is but a mass of nerves at the coming nuptials.” He watched the smile war against ehr features. “There’s that smile.” He said, his fingers tracing their path over her lips.

“I think I shall need more wine.” Tyrion muttered his excuses and promised to check on the progress of the preparations.

They’d spent the past two years in a nether. Neither straying far from the other in that time. Jaime had followed her back to Tarth, after she had spent two moons with him at Casterly. On Tarth, Jaime had begun to learn what it was to be a Stormalander, to learn the importance of leading as a man of honor, rather than one who instills fear into the masses. Jaime was on Tarth when news of Tywin’s death came in the form of a raven from Lannisport. It was Brienne who held his hand through the long journey. He raged about words enver said, love never acknowledged and not being able to stand vigil for his father. 

Brienne had been his rock, when the madness of the world had took hold of him. Cersei had not come from the North. She was expecting her first child and could not make the long journey. Tyrion had stood vigil, for seven days. He had made all the arrangements and entertained the well wishers. By the time Jaime had made it back to the Rock, there were few remnants of the funeral, and Tywin Lannister had been laid to his eternal rest. 

Then, they had spent nearly half a year at Winterfell, where everything changed.

Brienne’s tug at his sleeve brought him back to the present. “You all right?” The question swirling in her blue eyes. “You look as if you went away for a while.”

“No more of that.” he said with a smile, his hand finding hers again. “We have a wedding to attend.”

“That, we do.” Brienne agreed.   
_______________________

The day of the wedding dawned beautiful. Brienne awoke in her borrowed rooms. She had spent the night with the ladies, feeling as misplaced as she would have those back home. She looked upon her gown for the ceremony and wondered, not for the first time, how she had been suckered into all of this. 

Truly, she had been the one to orchestrate most of it. Had placed the groom into the exact spot needed, had made sure the groom wouldn’t escape. Brienne smiled at that, the Lannister men and their love for running.

A knock at her door broke her reverie. Tyrion entered her rooms slyly. “My Lady.” he bowed.

Brienne smiled as he made his way to her breakfast and made himself comfortable. He poured wine t=for the two of them and bade her to join. “What are you doing here, Lord Tyrion. Should you not be preparing for the day?”

“This day, would not exist without you, Lady Brienne.” He raised his glass to her and she obliged. 

“I had little to do with much past introducing the two of you.” She said. “You and your stunning personality did the rest.”

Tyrion through his massive head back and laughed. “Oh, you are a Lannister.” he chortled.

“Not quite.” she returned with a grim smile.

“In time.” Tyrion added. “Jaime loves you. He just needs to know all the choices are his.” He studied her profile in the rising sun coming through the large windows. 

“I know that.” she smiled. “And, as I have told you before, we agreed on that. We both want to marry when we are ready, not a moment before.”

Tyrion nodded. “He took a lot of angry ravens for it. Father was most displeased.”

Brienne stabbed at her eggs while Tyrion made off with her bacon. “It was your father that was the greatest barrier to all of this.”

“And, he is dead now.” Tyrion said. 

Brienne poured them each another glass of wine. “Be that as it may, I am glad at least that you have found true love.” She gave him an honest and sweet smile as payment for redirecting the conversation.

“My Lady, I could never thank you enough for your service. You introduced me to the best part of my life. Sansa is...everything I ever dreamed.”

“Make sure you remain that for her, Tyrion.” She frowned. “No more whores, or mistresses, or whatever it was you paid them to be.”

Tyrion smiled into his glass. “I owe you a debt that..”

“This was a debt paid, Tyrion.” Her eyes softened from across the table. “I always told you you would find someone.”

“You really are a Lannister.” He said, and Brienne knew it was a sincere compliment.

“What are you doing here, Brother?” Jaime said from the door. “Shouldn’t you be off terrorizing children and curdling milk? Or, whatever it is people do before weddings.”

Tyrion grinned up at his brother. “I’ve come to break my fast with my favorite sister.” he said. 

“Why are you in my Lady’s chamber?” He grinned when his eyes met Brienne’s, a gentle blush crashing over her features at his attentions. “I’ll not have you molesting my future bride on the dawn of you finally getting your own. Go, find your new brothers. I hear they are looking for a cure for last night’s imbibing. Don't suppose you know anything about that?”

“Starks,” tyrion grinned as he jumped from his seat and dusted his hands. “I’d always thought they could hold their spirits in the North.”

“People just love to praise a famous name.” Jaime shrugged. “Go, find that red head of yours. What is it they call it in the North?”

“Kissed by fire.” brienne offered. “And, that’s a Wildling phrase I believe.”

Tyrion and Jaime shared a smile between them, Brienne, had no doubt they were recalling the unfortunate ginger wildling who had set his sights on her in her time at Winterfell. “Stop it, the two of you.”

“You should have let that ginger beast steal her.” He said with a smile at the doorway. 

“Be gone, short man, before `i tell your bride where I found you this morning.”

“Now, now, dear brother. Be kind to me.” His features broke into the Lannister grin. “After all, I know where all the Lannister gold is.” Tyrion bowed and swept the door closed behind him.

Brienne frowned. “What does he mean by that?” she asked.

Jaime shrugged. “Tyrion’s job here, under father’s orders, were to manage the cisterns and plumbing.”

Brienne nodded. She had known that. It was the lowest place the once patriarch could have bestowed. 

“I’ve no doubt that my brother would have found the untapped veins of gold somewhere on this rock. He has always had a nose for such things.” He took his brothers glass of wine and sniffed it. “Strong spirit for the morning.”

“Hair of the dog, I would assume.” She had felt the weight of the wine on her, even though she had not touched her second glass while Tyrion had had four. “It would explain the renovations.”

“The wine?” Jaime asked 

“No, you idiot. The gold. The changes around here.” Perhaps the wine had hit her in such a way, but Brienne suddenly saw things with great clarity. “Your father has passed.” She said. 

Jaime jolted in his seat as if his ass had caught fire. “Yes, he has.”

“That’s not what I meant, Jaime.” She felt a blush climbing her features. “What I mean to say, is that I am certain my father would be amenable to releasing you from any betrothal that…”

Jaime leaned back into his chair. “And you? What would you be amenable to, Lady Brienne?”

She fidgeted with her empty plate and wished to be anywhere other than under Jaime’s intense glare. “I will live.”

His bark of laughter was unexpected, but angered her. “I’m glad you can laugh at this.” she said. 

Jaime wiped his eyes and stuttered an attempt at words. “You’ll live. Wench, I’ve no doubt of anyone on this hideous continent would live and fight and survive, it's you.”

She ducked her head, uncertain if it was a compliment or a gentle brush aside. “I had a conversation with your father last night. While the Northmen and my brother were emptying Lannisport of its vineyards.”

Brienne leaned forward, suddenly clear headed. “You did?”

It was Jaime’s turn to fidget.. He twirled the empty wine glass in his elegant hands. “He did. He said much as the same to me, that he would release me from the arrangement if I so desired.” Jaime’s eyes turned back on hers as the silence crept around them. “Don’t you want to know what I told him?”

Brienne rose from her seat and began to arrange her things to ready for the wedding. “It's fine, Ser Jaime.” She threw as offhanded as she could. “I understand.”

The sound of the chair overturning and Jaime’s hand on her waist made her reach for the sword that wasn't at her hip. “Ser Jaime.” She hissed. 

“No way, Wench. We have been through too much to let doubts and stupidity get in the way now.” He kissed her softly. It wasn’t their first kiss, nor their 100th or even 100th, but it was as sweet and wanted as that kiss in the tourney yard. 

“I’ve no doubts.” she fired. “Especially when you kiss me that way.”

He kissed her again. “We should do this more often then.” he smiled. 

Brienne scowled at him. “What are you saying?”

“The same thing I said to your father last night.” Smiling Jaime held her hands in his and leaned into her ear. “We need to marry, and soon. I don't know how long my honor can hold.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for the idea, hope you'll enjoy this!


End file.
